it’s always too good to be true.

You tricked me. You fooled me into thinking that you were serious this time. That this time, you were being honest with me and yourself. But you weren’t. You completely and utterly played me just how you wanted and although you may not have directly benefited for it because I don’t feel you did, you still managed to break me. To erase everything that I have worked for for the past three years. Everything that I have done to get over you, you ruined it. You have completely ruined me. I am nothing without you. I am lifeless – alone, hurt, broken. It’s like I am out of my body and my body is just existing. Just sitting in the chair or lying in my bed or walking to and from school…the thoughts that circle my brain are only about you. I think about you, about your lips, about your words, about how you said you wanted everything – about how this time, we were going to be different. You said this time would be different.

I don’t know where to go from here.

I could call you on this bullshit you call a “friendship”. I could tell you how awful a person you are, how I think it is despicable that you would put a person through this…but in order to do that, I would have to believe it. I would have to cringe every time I see you. I would have to feel hatred every time you touched me. I would have to loathe you at the mention of your name.

But I don’t.

I don’t hate you. I don’t want you out of my life. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I want to love you. I want you in my life constantly. I want you to pay attention to me all the time. I want you. I want you. I want you.

That isn’t realistic though. Because you can’t be honest with me. You are never honest with me. I was so cautious at the beginning. I was skeptical and doubting and was concealing my heart for no one to know about – not even you. I didn’t want to show you my hand because that would mean you would know every move I would make. I was trying to be mysterious and interesting.

Refusing to meet with you. Being busy when you wanted to see me. Ignoring your messages until I felt that it was appropriate to respond. These are all tactics I used in order to keep myself on track. And then you told me everything. Everything that you were “feeling” and how this time was different.

And at that very moment, my hand was shown. The cards were dealt and our future expired. I didn’t know it, but that was the moment that you checked out. Hook, line, and sinker.

Look at me now. Where I am. Who I have become in such a short period of time.

Life is not live-able. I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to check my phone because I know there is nothing there waiting for me. No message from you. No missed calls. Just a few Instagram likes and maybe a missed alarm notification.

I am broken. You broke me.

So where do I go from here? Do I tell you how I feel and scare you away completely? Do I hide under the covers and wait until something comes of this re-connection? What do I do?

The ball is in your court.

As always.


they always return.

I forgive, but I never forget. This is kind of the theme of the week, if you ask me. I don’t know why this happens…but it seems as if any time you begin to think of someone – someone that you haven’t spoken to…in a LONG time – they end of reaching out. Did that happen to me? Absolutely. This week has been a literal blast from the past. On Monday, I received a message from an ex – an ex that I really haven’t been involved with for three years. Of all times, why did it have to be now? When I am feeling the most single…the most desperate (as much I would never admit that to anyone…it’s totally true).

We didn’t end on the best of terms and although we have spoken since we split, it has never really gone “well”. We always used to fight, and it always seemed as if he didn’t understand ANYTHING that I was saying (men, right?). Well, one week ago, he apologized…for all of it. For the nasty things he said, for the shitty things that he did…everything.

Since it has been three long years since all of that went down, I thought about what I wanted to come of this. Did I want him back? I didn’t know. Did I even want to keep in contact with him? After we both graduate this year, I literally will never see him again…so why not let it die and move on with my life? Of course, as many of my ladies out there know…that is really hard. Especially when someone has come crawling back, admitting that he was wrong and you were right (because you knew you were right all along, and someday he would figure that out). He did!!

I took a couple of days to figure it out in my head. Go over potential scenarios…and ultimately decide what I wanted. I came up with a plan, and handled it. I returned his message, basically stating that I appreciated his possible and it was about time he realized he was in the wrong for what he has done. He was in complete agreement with me and not only that, he told me that he made a huge mistake letting me go. I rarely hear that from guys, I don’t know about you…but that meant a lot to me.

So I am giving him a trial run. The thing is…(and he doesn’t know this…yet)…I am slowly slipping into that dependent girl that I once was. I hang around, waiting for him to message me, wait for him to respond to me and constantly analyze what I am going to say back so that he doesn’t ignore my message.

This guy is like a drug to me and I am TOTALLY addicted.

Needless to say, I have been bumping my “sad romance” playlist all week. I don’t know how far this can go. I need to go slow or I will lose track of the plan that I have.

One more thing to add to the pile? My friends don’t know. You see, he’s not their favourite person and for the things that he has done and put me through in the past, they are not fans of this boy. I don’t want them to judge based on this instant connection we have rekindled. I don’t know how long it is going to last – he could change his mind and pull the plug in a week, or I could do that same thing. So until I know that this is real and something that I can depend or rely on from him, my friends are being left out of it.

No need to put them through my drama for nothing. Additionally, I don’t really want their advice. Any of it. The only person that I have told is my Mom, and she has told me to follow my heart. Forgive but never forget. I miss him. I remember all of our little things…which is what gets me. That’s what gets you, right? When you remember all of the sweet little things that you shared just between you.

Like looking at the clock at a certain time. Or like the secret kisses that we used to steal away from each other. Or when he used to sit at the back of lecture, and when he saw me he would text me ‘look up’ and smile at me with such kind eyes. I remember all of that and that was three years ago.

Nobody has made me feel like that in all the guys I have dated since and before him. He puts me under a spell. Something that words cannot explain.

I don’t want to say good bye, and I don’t know how I can move on from him. So this rekindling of a friendship or relationship or whatever this is…is good. For now. And I don’t need anyone else’s two cents put in on this one.

There…I have vented. I am finished. Phew.

gut wrenching feelings.

I can’t get this pain gone from the pit of my stomach. Like when you are telling a lie right to your mother’s face (which you end up caving to two minutes in the future). Or when you are nervous about seeing an ex boyfriend to retrieve your things. Except there is no lie. There is not ex boyfriend. There is just this pain in the pit of my stomach.

Now I am not keeling over in terror because of this pain. No, it’s an emotional type of pain. I can’t get rid of it. I was on cloud nine this past week because I was with my core family – my father, mother and sister. We were together again after me being away (back at school). I am back at school now and the pain is back in me.

I love school…so how could this pain be caused by school? It isn’t. I think it is the pain of loneliness. I have my friends. However I don’t feel like I have them. Everything is different this year and this chronic emotional pain of mine grows stronger when I am here. Maybe it’s because I am a senior and graduating in a few months and have no plans for my future. Nothing is set in stone. The only thing that I know is that I have Selena Gomez tickets right after I graduate.

It comes and goes. But this gut wrenching feeling remains in me, ready to come back as soon as I think too hard. It’s awful.

will it ever go away?

It’s not that I still like him…it’s that I don’t like him at all. Every girl says it. She claims that she hates the boy who screwed her over, or let her down, or saddened her beyond belief. But does she mean it? Yes and no. She doesn’t like him (well, she may)…but her hate for him is much, much stronger.

It’s not that I want him to be mine. But I don’t want him to be with anybody else. You think you get over someone. To some extent, you are. I can fully say that I am 100% – no, 150% over my ex’s. I don’t wish to be with them, I don’t want them back, I simply don’t need them anymore.

Do I want to see them happy? No. Do I care? No.

This sounds like a bold-faced lie, I know. But it’s true. When I am feeling alone and single as hell…I don’t want to see my ex yucking it up with a girl at a party. Even more so, I don’t want to see him happy with a new girl.

That is the worst. Because whether we like it or not, there will always be competition with our ex’s (unless you’re weirdly best friends, or something…but even then…).

I, currently, am the single-st person on the entire planet. I don’t have anyone I am seeing, I haven’t seen anyone in months, and I truly am not interested in any male companion around me right now. Sure, that is my decision…but I am trying to steer clear of douche bags (do you know how hard that is to do?). Do I want to come across a photo of my ex boyfriend with a girl that he is seeing…and do I want him to look happy in the photo? Hell no…

Why would any girl want to see this? This just makes me upset.

This is the reason girls get tinder…I’m telling you.

Now I’m rambling. Wow, I am doing that a lot lately. Maybe this is just where I ramble. All I am saying, is that I saw a photo of my ex tonight with his new girlfriend and look where it lead me. This post was born.

This is awful. I’m going to bed.

how she sees it.

She takes out the key, places it in the lock and clicks it open. She opens to plain darkness. Nothing but a big, empty bed waiting for her to sleep the hours away. The moonlight catches the shadows of her clothing rack, her nightstand, and the three empty cans of diet coke she polished off earlier. Slippers are strewn about the floor, along with two pairs of wrinkled jeans.

She dumps her things on the bench beside her, leaving the room in darkness, admiring the sterile sound in the error. Nothing. No one. It’s just her, the empty cans of diet coke, along with other meaningless items.

As she sits on the edge of the mattress, thoughts and whispers swirl around her – clouding her thoughts and memories as she desperately tries to remember what it was like. What touching felt like. How she longed to place her head on his chest. Or run her toes up his shin. How his hair used to feel between her fingers. The way the moonlight used to catch his jaw line, creating the silhouette every girl would melt over.

It wasn’t too long ago that this room felt happy. It was filled with the warmth of love and strength and safety. Laughter bounced off the walls, showering love and creating a bond between them that was unbreakable.

Until her.

Until the person that eventually did break them. How one came between them, she will never know.

As she draws the blinds, preventing the light of the moon from capturing anything inside, she looks out to see him there. Standing three stories down, sitting on her lawn. It’s not him…it can’t be him. He’s gone.

She lingers because she’s confused. Could it be him? Is he really sitting there, looking as if he has a purpose – a reason – to be there? Just as she’s about to look away, he catches her eye, smiles and approaches the porch. Panick strikes and she freezes. She can hear her heart beating a thousand miles a minute.

It’s 1AM. Footsteps get louder. The knob turns. There he is, standing there. Captured by the moon light, like he once was. She can’t help but look deep into his eyes from across the room. Searching.

Searching for an indication to why he is standing in her bedroom. After all that they have been through.

Her feet won’t move. Her heart has already jumped. In fact, her heart never came back with her after he left. He has had her heart the entire time.

Falling backwards into her pillow, she shuts her eyes tight. Hoping for anything other than the situation she is in now. She opens her eyes and he is gone.

Was he ever really there? No.

Did her feelings ever go away? No.

She sees the things that she feels. Feelings dictate her life, and in this case, the people that appear in her life.

the mind that doesn’t rest.

I think being single is a lifestyle. That sounds like a pretty simple statement…but think about it. Sure, you may be single for two months or two years at a time…but when you do find yourself truly single, you live an entirely different life then when you were paired up with another person.

When you wake up in the morning, you don’t stare into the beautiful eyes of your loved one, you most likely roll over on to your very well loved (and used) body pillow. When you go to Starbucks, you are only buying for one…not two. When planning the costume for the Halloween party your friend is having, you’re going as sexy something rather than that cliche couple costume.

Why am I giving you all of these examples? Well, for once, I am single and have been living this “lifestyle” for a long time. That is the arbitrary answer. There is some truth to what I am saying about singledom (as I like to call it). You aren’t thinking of anyone but yourself. Now that sounds super selfish, I know…but it is complete and utter honesty. So if the singles are being selfish, treating themselves to Starbucks and the sexiest costumes of the bunch…then why do people complain about it so often?

Why does this blog even exist? Because there is something attractive about being chained to another person. Linked up to them, knowing their feelings, heart and mind all at once. Knowing that when you roll over in the morning and see the big beautiful eyes of your significant other, that makes it all worth it…and that is what we all long for.

Now I am single and if I wanted to, I could wake up to many different pairs of beautiful eyes…day after day, night after night. But would I see anything in those eyes? Would I see memories, hope or a life with me? No, because most likely they woudl be closed (because he would be asleep, duh). But also because it’s not the same kind of eyes that I am talking about.

Have I lost you yet?

In a very messy way, I am trying to explain the lifestyle of a single. Thinking about themselves, for themselves. It’s all about you.

Personally, I love the lifestyle and I hate it at the very same time. i love it because I truly do not have anyone to answer to except myself (and my mother, of course). I hate it because I have no one to answer to period. No one is there when I get home to kiss me and pull me into a loving embrace. No one is there to rest my head on at night (well, unless you count the body pillow…I sometimes do). No one is there when I feel at my loneliest (is that a word?).

Just under a year ago, I was in a relationship that had all three of those things. Two years ago, I had the kind of embracing and loving that I needed. Five years ago I had it as well. Different people, different embraces, different feelings. But still one overall feeling of compassion and satisfaction. Until something went wrong…which led me back here. To the single lifestyle.

Life ceases to amaze me at the turns it takes me on. Which is why I am up at 1:30 in the morning writing a pathetically insightful post about single living or what it means in my life. In reality, it is just another failed attempt at putting my thoughts into words. Agh who even reads this anyway, right?

That’s my cue to sign off and try and pretend like I am sleeping…

the ramblings of the night owl.

I haven’t written here in a long time. Every time I revisit this diary of mine, I swear to myself that I will write more often, that I will post more…but really…it’s all a lie. Because this is my outlet – a place where I can vent, out my feelings…in total anonymity. This blog is my best friend in the sense that it knows all of my secrets. Between the lines of text are memories. Certain words trigger thoughts in my head that I don’t normally think of. It’s almost like it all comes out of the wood work whenever I tap into this at 1 AM.

How have I been? Should I do the typical “work’s great, school sucks” routine? Or should I dive into why I’m logged on at 1:13 AM on a Saturday night…one week before I move back to college.

The latter seems suitable, don’t you think?

I’m boring. Well, tonight I am. I have nothing to bitch and complain about because…nothing is happening. Other than me watching 50 Shades of Grey, American Pie and stuffing my face full of little Reese’s Pieces…nothing is going on. Guy wise? Zilch.

You think that I would be knee deep in a summer fling’s end right now (I look like that type, right? Well, you wouldn’t know…)? Nope. Not one boy. Not even close. Unless you count an old elementary friend messaging me for absolutely no reason at all. Why don’t we start there?

Pretty simple story line, actually. He messaged me after close to seven years of not saying a word to one another (even through high school), and asks me out. Fine. Except he doesn’t set a date, time or place…so I don’t count that as being asked out. He might as well of just asked me to come over, take my clothes off and not say a word (hint of 50 Shades coming through here…oops). So right off the bat…I wasn’t overly impressed or considered him as a contender.

Until we started talking literally every day. It was casual talk, nothing flirty really and nothing suggestive (as I carefully avoided). Only because I didn’t want to lead him on…because, really, he doesn’t have even a tiny shot at taking me out.

Note: my standards/expectations exist now.

I grew accustomed to receiving a text each day…but now it’s tweedled off (yes that’s a word). And good riddens’…but at the same time…I have no boys, prospects at all and I’m alone watching at fantasizing late at night to 50 Shades of Grey!

Maybe I should just go to bed now…