lighter

well, hello there, journal. it’s been awhile. i’m back, and this time, i’ve achieved the unthinkable: i fell in love. and in the greatest city in the world, nonetheless.

it’s a love so sweet, i’ve been hesitant to even write about it, because i know that if it ends, looking back and reading these words later will bring me so much pain.

but i also know that if i don’t write about it, i might forget that it even happened to me. and isn’t that what us writers do – immortalize these fleeting moments with our words, capture the exact feeling we felt at the moment, even after nostalgia and heartbreak and longing discolors it in the future?

holding hands on the subway at 11 PM on a wednesday night, quiet giggles brimming to the surface of our muted conversation, in part due to slight inebriation, but mostly just the simple contentment of being in each other’s company. we were both with our own friends that night and i took two taxi rides to get to you, an hour total, just so we could take a subway home together for fifteen minutes. you patiently waited for me by the subway station in the cold the whole time.

a few minutes of silence, and then i feel it – three squeezes of my hand. i love you. we smile at each other and touch noses. the strangers around us don’t even know the weight of the moment they just witnessed.

the first snowstorm. i protest about leaving the house, upset over being dismissed by a friend after making plans that day, fearing the biting cold of this january morning. we walk to a diner to have breakfast, trudging through the seven inches of snow in our boots. i put my mittened hand into your jacket pocket for warmth, and you laugh. i hold your hand the whole time under the table. i don’t think i stop smiling once. we pay and our server calls us lovebugs. we kiss outside the door and it tastes like syrup and hot sauce.

now we’re at home, curled up in each others arms and watching a scary movie. a saturday afternoon with nowhere to be and what feels like all the time in the world. the snow is flurrying outside. you lay your head on my chest, i wrap my arms around your waist and run my fingers through your jet black hair. soon i hear your steady breathing, fast asleep on your couch, entangled in each other’s sweatshirts and socks. i think to myself, i never knew i could feel such peace like this before. i make a note of it in my mind, knowing that this will be a moment i will want to experience again and again. and i know this even while it’s still happening.

one night at 3am, i wake up, riddled with my anxiety, staring at the ceiling, then up at you as you breathe heavily in my hear in your slumber, then out the window, the moonlight spilling onto your baby blue sheets. i feel tears welling up — another night hawk. i thought these would go away now that i found someone. suddenly i feel a soft ug at my head, your hand gently cradling my face into your neck, kissing my cheeks and my eyes and my tears. you say nothing. i don’t need you to.

it’s sunday night, the duties of a busy workweek and real life looming over our quiet evening in. we’re watching a show you hate, two metal spoons shoveling ice cream out of a single tub of non-dairy cookie dough flavor. i make another dumb joke, and you laugh at it anyways. suddenly you stop and say, “i could get used to this.” i smile in silent agreement and you pull me closer to you.

i never believed that a person, or a relationship, or a love could solve my problems. i still don’t believe that. but i can’t deny that it is easier. it feels as though i have been holding my breath for 26 years and i finally feel like i can just be.

this love doesn’t consume me. it doesn’t make my stomach explode into butterflies or fireworks. instead, it holds me safely in its warm embrace, taking a bit of the load off my shoulder. a balm to my burns, a gentle nudge to my hesitance, a reign on my chaos. i don’t feel complete. i don’t always feel at peace. i don’t always experience overwhelming joy. i just feel lighter. and right now, that’s all i need.

NP: fidelity – regina spektor

post-healing

NP: the angel of 8th ave. – gang of youths

So, hello. I moved to New York City after all — and wow, this has been a ride. I have no idea what I’m doing or why I did this or what happens next. I’m just…here? And I feel so far from where I’ve been but I don’t know who I am right now?

anyways, wanted to say that no one ever talks about the immense anger that comes from healing. you finally wake up to all the bullshit you’ve been putting up with in the past, and you have all these regrets about not knowing better, wishing things could have gone differently, that you’d chosen differently, that you’d never met this person or done this thing. i am so caught in this cycle of self-pity and anger and jealousy over all the people around me who seem to have moved on quickly.

and it’s not for lack of trying on my part. i am trying so, so hard to not let the same mistakes happen. to not be triggered by the same words or people or places anymore. to understand why i did the things i was doing, to forgive myself and be kind to myself, to accept that things needed to happen this way in order for me to learn my lesson.

spirituality helped for awhile but it’s starting to wear off. i’m not so sure i’m favored when it comes to love. in fact, it doesn’t seem like anyone in my family is. and yet, everyone around me seems to run into it so easily.

it’s kind of fucked up how the people who want it the most always seem to end up never having it. and then you feel bad and pathetic for wanting it, because everyone is telling you that you’re trying so hard. maybe that’s the case but is it ever an issue to try so hard for something that you know you deserve and know you can give easily?

i used to think it would be simple…i’d meet someone, we’d get along, they’d like me, i’d like them, we’d get together. it feels like our generation is not wired to do this anymore. i don’t really know how i’m going to rectify this situation. i guess i’ll just keep running away from the problem for now.

(break)free

are you really doing things for yourself? or are you just clinging on to ideas, people, places to give you some semblance of security?

i wish i could figure out what the voice in my head was really saying. she’s been getting drowned out by a lot of distractions lately. lots of possibilities — money, a nice apartment, bougie hobbies, a b*y, stability, a lifestyle i’ve dreamt of but have never had. on the other hand, possibilities of fulfillment, of love, of community, of choosing something that is really truly for myself, and in the process, giving up a life of financial security that i have worked so hard for.

i know i’m good at both. but one feels exhausting and the other feels exhilarating. one feels like entrapment and the other feels like freedom. but they can be both of these things at the same time.

i’ve been feeling really loved lately and i’m trying to rebuild my relationships so that they’re about equal parts give and take again. so much giving for so long can be so exhausting. i’m not saying anyone was at fault, necessarily — in the end, it was me who couldn’t place the boundaries to protect myself. trying not to focus so much on the end result and just live my life day-to-day.

but when the day-to-day is asking me to make decisions, what am i supposed to say?

NP: ghost town (voice memo) by chloe george  💕

time heals

Does it really? I guess in some ways, yes. You just kind of forget, and it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. But the void of the loss is still there, especially if you haven’t found anything to fill it in the meantime.

Yes, I am still hopelessly single and nothing looks to be changing anytime soon. I can’t help but have moments of bitterness throughout the day. It really shouldn’t have to be this hard, and I feel bitter that I’ve been this unlucky. I guess the good thing is that I’m no longer blaming myself or the things I do for the reason people leave. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. It’s nice to know your worth, but it hurts more when someone you want to see it is so blind and goes to someone else. And you just have to wonder if it’s you, or if it’s timing, or if it’s both, and if it’s just going to be an endless stream of extreme highs and depth-ridden lows. I don’t really know. I really, really don’t know.

I know I’ve changed a lot in the last year, and it feels really good. I can see how all the little changes have helped me in the long run. I still want more, but I know that forcing it isn’t going to bring it to me. I’ve tried so many times, and it just hurts and leaves me exhausted.

I know it’s possible to be a million different people all at once. I can’t tell you which one is the actual me because they all feel like me. I can tell you that I’m pretty exhausted. Acting out doesn’t happen as often anymore, but when it does, it’s still depleting my energy. Trying my best to just know my worth as much as possible.

But I did it. I got a new job, I applied to graduate school (yes, again), I said no to cute boys, I have managed to truly enjoy being at home the last 7 months, I am making every single decision for myself and the ones that I love. It’s better to do that than to do something in the hopes of keeping someone around or working towards a life that isn’t even what I want. I know it’s the only way to go from here on out.

I don’t chase. I attract. What’s for me will not pass me by.

I need to leave San Francisco

How did I get here? You used to be my relief. Coming home to you was the best home I’d ever known. A breath of cool, fresh air, filled to the brim with possibility and excitement, but at the same time, an inimitable warmth and comfort. I saw so much of myself in you. I know it wasn’t all bad, but right now, I can only remember the bad.

Every heartbreak, every mistake, every wrong turn here and there — how did I get here? And why did it need to happen?

You used to be my dream, and now I can’t wait to leave. All I wanted was to feel like myself, but right now, I feel trapped.

I’ve given you so many chances. I changed my habits, I changed my outfits, I changed my friends. We even tried going to therapy. But nothing seemed to be enough for you. And by the end of it, it was almost like you were trying to make me leave.

When we met, I had just turned 21. And here I am, less than a month from 25. I gave you everything, all of my unconditional love. I really wanted us to work. I didn’t want it to end like this, but maybe it was always supposed to be this way. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself in your promise, in your potential. I was hanging on to what I first saw in you. But I can’t hang on to that hope anymore.

Maybe we’ll meet again, when I’m older, wiser, and more sure of myself. But for now, it’s time to say goodbye, San Francisco.

longing

I just looked back on those posts from earlier last year and, wow…I really was going through it back then. I mean, I definitely still am. But I can see now that boys and dating took up way more of my headspace than they do now.

I’m shedding my skin and redefining the way I see myself and present myself to others. Setting boundaries and putting my needs first. I am no longer trying to be the kind, gentle, emotional friend who’s always there for you. Yes, I still am that person–but I have and always will be more than that. And I deserve people in my life who can see me for that. But first, I have to find those parts and show them.

There’s emotional me. We know her. We love her, and we want to protect her. I really, truly love that about myself. I think it’s really special.

But I’ve forgotten about all the other me’s. The sassy, witty one who loves to argue and banter. She’s kind of loud and sometimes annoying. But she knows exactly what she wants. She might not always get it, but she knows. And she’s the one who knows exactly what she deserves. I feel like she’s been squashed away for some time now, but it’s time to bring her back around. She’s not the most likeable one, but I like her the most.

And then there’s the new me I’m finding–she’s not exactly smooth, but she is charming. She can own her awkwardness, her unsureness, and she can turn it into her strength. She can also be meek at times, but it’s really a tactic to get people on her side. But she can become overpowering sometimes, and I get lost really easily with her at the forefront.

Hot-headed, fiery, decisive, confident, smart, bold.

Observant, perceptive, transformative, easy-going, harmonious.

Sweet, gentle, contemplative, thoughtful, caring.

They’re all there. They always have been.

one second heartbreak

a million little things

all packed into the span of a few hours.

text messages

laughs

gazing into each other’s eyes — brown, blue, hazel…

smiles and white teeth

a hand grazing my leg, lingering touches on my arm, twinkling eyes, giggles

pecks turn into kisses, full of lust, longing, loneliness,

fueled by whiskey, tequila, and rum,

a build-up so quick, you’d miss it in the blink of an eye

yet when you’re in it, it feels like an entire lifetime.

how do you explain when you want someone so badly

in that one moment

but not for an entire lifetime?

how do you explain a longing so full, so passionate, yet so, so, fleeting?

desperate to fill a void, to validate that you can find a connection with another being,

and yet, when faced with the reality of it, we run away.

i can’t fucking stand this anymore

i can’t keep doing this anymore

my mind, my heart, my body — exhausted,

from the strain, the silence, the never-ending wondering

of who’s next, who’s better, what’s wrong with me, what could i have done differently?

each of these romances, too short to be called real, and yet, too intense to be completely dismissed as nothing more than just a shared night of companionship between lonely hearts

i’m done, i’m drunk, i’m done

i’m crying all the time, filled with such an intense desire to share myself with someone else

to open myself so fully, so wholeheartedly, with another human being

to know that i am capable of being accepted, exactly the way i am.

assured

NP: Summertime in Paris – Jaden, Willow

On July 11, I hit my two year mark of moving out to San Francisco. Ironically, I was in New York City visiting my high school friend, scoping out the scene to see how I’d like it. I expected to love it — to my surprise, I found myself wanting more than ever to go back to California.

Coming back to San Francisco whenever I go on trips to a new destination always instills the same feelings: relief. Comfort. Ease. This is a city I have always loved coming home to. The cool air, the sleepy pace of people walking on the streets, the stillness of some neighborhoods and bustle of the others. I missed my friends, too.

I have grown in ways I never imagined. Going to New York made me realize that my dream was mostly to move to a city, not necessarily a specific one — but the way San Francisco made me feel when I first visited as an adult continues to stay with me whenever I return. It feels like the first time, every time. It’s so, so special to me.

I’m turning twenty four on Tuesday, which means I’ll officially be in my mid-twenties. I started this blog six years ago, a wide-eyed teenager on the brink of her eighteenth birthday, having just drank for the first time and harboring what felt like the strongest feelings I’d ever have for another person for my high school best friend. What. A. TIME.

This last year has been trying, difficult, and challenging in all the ways I wanted but never expected. I started twenty three off by naming it “The Year of the L”, and boy, did I take many. I’m probably going to have to continue down this path for some time, which is frustrating. But I can definitely feel myself getting stronger and growing a thicker skin.

I started this year off eager to have certain experiences so I could start relating to my friends; once I finally had them, it felt awful and wonderful at the same time. I could finally contribute to conversations about boys, dating, and hooking up, and while I sometimes felt more connected, I overall felt more alone and lost than before. I was doing things for the sake of doing things, something I’ve been prone to my entire life and probably will always be.

But my trip to New York made me realize that this feeling of overcompensating, of wanting to relate to other people in this aspect, of behaving impulsively just to have good stories to tell, was finally waning down, even just a bit. I finally feel like I have the ability to back down and ask myself if I’m doing things for myself or to tell other people. That’s not to say I’ve stopped making impulsive decisions, but now I’m doing it because I want to. And that’s a huge step forward for me.

I’ve also discovered a new, special power in my femininity, in my physical body, and in how I can use my compassion and emotionality to my benefit. It is exhausting to be my own emotional regulator, but I do feel thankful to have this on my side, because I know I can always learn to stand up for myself, which I’m slowly starting to do.

I don’t know what new challenges this year will bring me, and I know that nothing will drastically change when the clock hits 10:40 PM on Tuesday, no matter how much I want it to. I just have to keep going, keep trying, keep poking my head into different corners of my life and see where it takes me. There’s really no other way to live.

needy

NP: Prom – SZA

Well, hi. It’s been an absolutely insane first few months of 2019. I can’t believe we’ve already hit April…time is seriously flying by and I’m trying my best to grasp it, but it feels like I just keep slipping.

Where do I begin? I went on a bunch of dates in Dec/Jan, and one of the guys I really liked. And then I reached out to him after he didn’t follow up and embarrassed myself, and then I saw him at the club that weekend. Then I left my debit card at the club and had to go back. Yeah, literal mess.

Then I hooked up with my coworker, and that was an ordeal…I tried initiating another hookup, which turned into him asking me for a drink, which then turned into him ghosting me. Which would have gone much, much differently if I didn’t have to see him, walk past him, and interact with him 5 days of the week. Then he drunk texted me and my coworker who also hooked up with him 2 years ago on the same night. I…? Feel like I dodged a bullet there, but not sure what I’m supposed to do in the meantime.

Hooked up with this British guy I met on Bumble which was honestly just an uncomfortable and at times just gross/frightening night in general. It was one of those things that didn’t make me feel weird until afterwards, and I get really angry thinking about the night. Why do guys feel entitled to do this? I basically had to hook up with him to get rid of him. I made it so clear I didn’t want to go home with him that night.

Then went on a couple of meh dates, and then S reached out to me after we both swiped on each other on Bumble one drunken Friday night. (Yes, I know – this app is the devil, but what’s a girl supposed to do?) Saw him again, had a weird convo, hooked up with him, he called me crazy, made me feel bad, and then I just came back from a 3-week trip in India where I had all the time in the world to overthink that night and every interaction with him. And now I’m fighting every urge in my body to reach out to him when I’m back this week.

Why? He literally gaslights me all the time for having normal feelings. He’s really just a dick. He clearly does not care about me as a person and has no desire to get to know me – probably just reached out because it was convenient and we already knew each other when we re-matched, even though he ghosted. He said he ghosted because he thought it was turning into something serious. He is lacking in basic communication skills. He wouldn’t even walk me out the door. I’m pretty sure I found another girl’s underwear in his couch the morning after (I had lost my keys in the cushion). It’s been 5 weeks since I last saw him, and who knows how many other people he is seeing and if he would even respond to me/want to see me again. He is not worth risking that kind of rejection.

Oh, and I applied and got into some great teaching programs but turned it down to accept a new role at my current company. Which is great because I get to keep my lifestyle and make more money, but now I’m just confused as to what I want. My gut tells me it was the right decision, though – I just don’t know how to move forward beyond this position.

The good thing about all of this is that I put myself out there, and I’m really trying to be braver and more genuine/honest with myself and others and asking for what I want. I’m tired of pretending I’m unsure and not having the confidence to own my decisions. Who’s gonna believe you if you don’t believe yourself? I know I have to keep going, and I know there is a good guy out there, but why do I keep attracting the same ones, and why do none of them find me interesting enough to get to know me? I’m just so confused. At this point, I feel like it’s never going to happen.

Having never experienced romantic love, it makes me insecure that I only keep dating/hooking up with these types of guys. I didn’t intend to have this mini-hoe phase, really – I hooked up with all of these guys with the intention of pursuing something beyond that. Maybe not a relationship, but at least something a little more serious. I know it’s not me, but I can’t help but wonder what I’m doing wrong and why I continue to be drawn to a guy who is a total asshole to me when I know exactly what he is doing to me and when I know I deserve better. It’s that little bit of hope that gets me.

My friend says, “It sucks until it doesn’t” and my other friend says, “Burn and get burned.” This is definitely true. I’m happy that I’ve been able to make so much progress in a year in an area that I have never allowed myself to explore. I am literally going through a second puberty. 23 has already been a year I will never forget.

I’m taking a break from dating but I’m getting bored, and the more time I have to think, the more likely I am to go back to people who are bad for me. I just wish I could find someone who sees me…although lately it feels like I don’t even really know myself anymore.

One year later…

actually, it’s been over a year but let’s just forget about that for the time being.

hello! I’m currently writing this coming off the tail end of yet another random drunk weeknight gathering with friends. Tonight I got together with some of my best girl friends and we ended up taking shots because boys suck. But what else is new really?

23 so far has been quite the journey. I’m growing and stepping out of my comfort zone and I feel so raw, so anxious, and so vulnerable all the time. I feel like I am exposed every minute of the day. Whoever said that being in your twenties is your time to be selfish and shit is right — but they did not mention how awful it can be at times. The highest of highs and lowest of lows, I guess.

I have and most likely always will be a late bloomer. This has been no exception when it comes to boys. I feel like I should have gone through this phase of life much earlier, ideally in college when it’s acceptable to not know what the hell you’re doing. But this is my own story and I have to keep owning that and start making more of my own decisions. That was one of my main goals for this year: to start doing what I want, when I want, with who I want.

So far, it’s proven to be disastrous. I have never been in a place in my life where I have so badly wanted a relationship as I am right now. Boys literally take up 95% of my mind and it drives me nuts because every single one is useless and has no idea what they want.

I’m really trying to be open and stay open, but it’s been so so hard. I know I can’t just give up because that’s not how life works and that’s also how I’ll end up being thirty with no life experiences.

I’m so very thankful for my beautiful girl friends here. They’ve really taught me to embrace being in my twenties as a chance to explore and experiment, and to start looking at being single as a way to experience things on my own and have really, really good stories when I get older. I know in the long run this will likely all be for the best, and that I’m a pretty level-headed and open person when it comes to my emotions, but I just want to find someone to do life with. I feel like I’ve been waiting and praying and wishing for an eternity.

I just feel so poorly about my physical appearance, about my personality, about my drinking habits, and about my career choices, but I know that I wouldn’t want to live my life any other way. I just wish I didn’t rely so heavily on external validation to determine my own self-worth.

Your twenties are a lot of rejection. I think that’s the advice I wish I was given earlier. I know it’s the advice I’m gonna start giving to others now, because it sure as hell is true.