The rain soothes my parched soul,
quenches my thirst for the beautiful things in life,
and seeps into the deepest crack of my broken heart, yet,
it does not make me forget your memory....

A hand that comforts my deepest fears,
a lingering touch that calms the storm and
the fills the emptiness I feel inside,
still I can't forget your memory...

What once was, what could have been,
the possibilities of a young love flushed from two agonizing hearts,
all due to ego and the inability to forget words we did not mean...

A crushed life, rough beginnings,
eager to discover new worlds, new faces and new places....

And still...I can't forget your memory.

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Innocence

I was looking around Facebook today, trying to find old friends I lost touch with and snoop on people who I may have liked. In doing so, I found some pretty interesting things...the guy from HS who swore was as straight as an arrow ended up being flamboyant-gay, the most popular girl in high school is fat, ugly, and has three kids from different babydaddy's, and the smartest boy in class is now a druggie. In finding such, I also found those who hurt me and made 2 years of my life miserable. In snooping around FB, I also found some people that made my life in 7th and 9th grade miserable. While they weren't in high school, the pain that they caused runs deep, and while I've forgiven them for the nonsense they caused at such a young age, but forgetting the nonsense they put me through, for no justifiable reason, is hard to get past.

When I attended a private school, I was pretty shy and very reserved. I wasn't rude, I never talked bad about people, I always kept my circle of friends small, and had my reservations on what I would share with people. For some crazy reason, I was always the target of gossip, drama, and teasing, even though I did nothing to deserve such. I hated going to school at one point, and probably missed a little less than half of my 7th grade year because I always pretended to be sick or something to get out of going to class (not to mention 9th grade, the most horrible year EVER, in which I only received 5 credits out of 13 that year). There were 5 vicious girls who attacked me in every verbal way they could, and always did something or the other to put me down. I tried my best to stand tall, let each of their cruel words slide off or bounce back at them, but after being told so much and putting everybody against you, it took a toll. I now realize that the emotional walls I put up in order to not let anything hurt me have been present since a very young age, and breaking them down has been a long and hard fight. I've never said a word to anybody on how horrible life was back then....I don't think I could ever share the completely story of what happened because I don't even know WHY it started, and also, the little war wounds I have are the ones that have hurt the most. 10 years later, I'm left wondering how kids can be so cruel, and if something that happened so many moons ago ever pulls their heart-strings and makes them regret what they did. How spoiled, wrong, and heartless do you have to be to spew such anger and lies towards somebody who never wronged you? How dare they rob me of my innocence and my care-free childhood?

Oh humanity, all too often we're a disgrace to our creator.

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A Little More Human...

Sometimes I think I'm not human....or maybe not your typical girl. I always swear I have a hidden penis somewhere. I don't like to cry in front of people, or show much REAL emotions. The only two emotions I openly show are happiness and extreme anger; anything else in between is locked in a vault in my chest, only to come out in the privacy of my own room, or while I enjoy a steaming hot shower in which I can cry my eyes out and nobody is there to see. It takes a lot for me to show feelings....I'm blunt, perhaps a tad hardened and bitter, and admitting that I have emotions, much less talk about them, is a big no-no in my book. I don't want to let anybody see my weaknesses, what I am ashamed of, or my biggest fears. I'm tough, I can handle anything and everything that comes my way.....

Or so I think.

I've been dating BF for almost 5 months now, and slowly but surely...he's teaching me a lesson that I'm starting to put into practice: how to be a little more human. I always say I'm the one with the balls in the relationship, he's always so sweet and nurturing, the first to show emotions and want to "talk about it" in order to let it out and feel better, and the first to try ANYTHING in order to help me better no matter how much it will dent his wallet or how many big bear hugs he might have to give. Of course, each time I change the subject or go on into something that does NOT involve talking but does involve a pair of lips (#shameless)but he always finds a way to look deep into my soul and try to understand what I'm going through. I used to complain about his "lame-ness," but with time, I've learned to appreciate it. I've learned that he's teaching me a lesson that I better learn now before I end up old, bitter, angry, and alone.

I need to start cherishing the wide array of feelings which my heart and soul feels, and not be ashamed or scared of feeling them. My heart is becoming a little more human each day the BF says something that tugs on my heartstrings....I might complain at first, I might say he's a vagina and whatnot...but he's slowly opening my eyes to the beauty of feeling, of melting my heart into something that can open it's entire being to the world and once again....feel human again.

[Thanks to @Memelaroo for the vagblog tag]

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Where do I stand?

I thought mid-life crisis happened when you were into, well, your mid-life, say around your 40's, early 50's?

I'm going through what I like to call my "mid-university life crisis." While most young men and women in their early 20's anxiously await for their university graduation and the start of their adult life...I'm wondering where I'm going, and if I'm going down the right path. I've been through the "adult life," I know how hard it can be, and at a very young age I took on a responsibility I wasn't ready to take upon myself and ended up falling flat on my face. Now, with the completion of a baccalaureate degree right around the corner, the world seems to be flourishing with opportunities and I'm reeling if the degree I picked and have been working so hard for is worth it.

Each day passes by and I'm thinking how closer I am to graduating...thoughts linger in my head "will I get a job with this degree? should I start graduate school immediately? what if I end up teaching and don't like it?" My hard work, tuition payments, and the student loans I am in debt with would have all been for nothing...

As I look over the mental list of my life goals I realize that there is nothing more in this world that I would rather do than teach; I want to share my knowledge with students, inspire people to write, or at least help them develop their writing skills. It's a passion that comes from within, and every time I attend one of my classes and a professor passionately lectures, the fire within is fueled in me, and once again I realize this is where I want to be. This is where I want to be, this is whats in my heart, and this is what I'm working so hard for. School might be sucking the life out of me...financially, physically and emotionally, but I know it will all be worth it in the end.

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A Writer That Doesn't Write?

I have things to do. I have to much to read and write for school, I have no time to keep up with a blog. I'm tired. My eyes hurt....

So many never-ending excuses as to why I've stopped writing, and why I've stopped blogging. I wasn't consistent enough with my posts, but at least once or twice a month I'd pop in a blog here and there. As of now, my writing life is non-existant, the only thing I actually sit down for and type full length paragraphs is for school related papers and responses to different literary works.

I have a fear of writing and I can't get over it. I have so much to say, so many words that can flow out of me with such passion, but I refuse to let it out since writing is such an emotional ordeal that makes every true feeling I have ever had come out in the open.

It scares me.

I have to face these feelings. I must open my heart and let it out of me. I must, but I don't know if I can.

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Light it up, let it burn, and blow away the ashes...

It's not easy. Two years later, remnants of what once was still reside within me. I thought I had done away with it all, erased the confusion and pain, and moved along into greener pastures. I mean, after living carefree, and all the fun and slightly reckless dating and that happened in the past year, you'd think I would have gotten my shit together and should be skipping happily through life. WRONG.

I might be limping, and perhaps trudging carefully and weakly, but I'm stronger than ever. I might be indecisive, and perhaps unstable, but I'm figuring myself out. I'm taking everything that comes my way and cherishing every moment so I can learn a lesson that will help me in the future. I'm carrying the ashes left from the massive burning of the past in a little bag, and slowly getting rid of them as I walk...

Eventually, I'll get rid of it all.

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It seems I might have found the cure....

Clouded thoughts, unknown visions, useless hope, a weak heart;
How did it all lead to this, where is the cure, how to fix what is severely broken?

How to move on, how to get up and shake the dust from the soul, how to retreat into the heartless state I once swam in, and didn't have a problem living in?

Who is to blame? Who is to take upon the heat this heart feels, the pain it is delved in, the despair it feels?

Shaking off the dust, picking up the pieces of the heart that once was whole, back into my chest, dear heart, this time, I will protect you even more.

Cleared thoughts, visions of hope, useless pain, a heart that no longer feels, it seems I might have found the cure.

NOTE: Rough, very rough draft. I like it enough to come back and try to fix it.

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