One For My Inner Orphan

I know there are days when you don't know, many days, most days when you don't belong. And it's okay. Just because you've never felt at home somewhere doesn't mean that things can't still happen for you. Just because you don't feel understood doesn't mean that people don't care for you. Just because you don't have a home yet doesn't mean that you will never get one, and until then there is appreciation to be had in all the in between places. There are many things still open to you, things you haven't done yet, seen yet, said yet. It's okay to tell your sadness to pack up its shit and leave, and it's also okay if you don't yet seem quite able to do that. Life isn't a competition and once you find your home, it will be great, beyond anything you could've dreamed.

One That Is a Part of the Story + When The Realization Hit

Sailor sat, black cotton shorts and old white t-shirt, feet propped up on the desk, Boston record playing Amanda softly in the background. The girl sitting quietly, obviously deep in her own thoughts. As these thoughts run through her head, a realization starts to form in her head. She loves him, without fault, without question, and coupled with the absolute certainty that in some space or time or universe, they will belong together. Before any actual effort comes from such a realization, the girl is interrupted by a figure standing in her door. A girl, skinny as a rail, and a hundred pounds soaking wet, with the whitest white blonde hair hanging halfway down her back. "Hey, are you ready to go?"

"Oh, sure I guess. Where are we going, Kenzie?"

"Dinner, of course. I'm starving."

"Ok, let's go."

Sailor sat in the car, music playing softly in the background. She had been planning to write Mason a letter for four years now. It had been three months since their friendship had come to an abrupt end. Turns out, unrequited love really does get in the way. The idea in her head of being in a bar, sitting counter, listening to the band. All of a sudden, a man sidles up to the counter and takes a seat. She glances over and it's him, Mason, same red hair, same soft smile, but now in a man's body. However, his idea was more immediate. High school sweethearts, marriage, but Sailor could never shake the feeling that they weren't ready for that. Him, too immature. Her, too broken. Eventually, such different ideas caused such a big rift. But now what? She had to go through with it. She had to write that letter. She had to take the chance, even if nothing happened. Sailor was never one for sitting back and doing nothing.

One That Went a Bit More In Depth, But Mostly Stream of Consciousness

"Why do you do this?", he asked. "Why are you so hell-bent on destroying everything, why do you live to see your life in flames?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Are you scared?"

"No."

"Who the hell fucked you out so bad that you feel the need to destroy good things. You can't ever leave things alone. Maybe you think you don't deserve happy things. Maybe you're just that damn scared of getting hurt. So fucking fearful that you can't even begin to accept a relationship with anyone without attempting to self-destruct. Did he do this to you? Did he fuck you up so bad that no one will ever be able to reach you again? Do you hate yourself? Because you don't hate me."

"Maybe no one cares enough to try. No single human being will ever again care enough to put in that type of effort. People want efficient and people want easy. If you're difficult, if you're not open enough, talkative enough, quiet enough, happy enough, all of a sudden, you're not good enough. People are willing to put in enough effort to give themselves an A+, to get a high from trying to save you. They want a little bit of effort and then a lot of cracking. Well, I can't crack, not for you, not for me, not for anybody. I cracked once, just the once, and I don't think I was ever quite whole again. There are so many things inside of me so completely broken, and I'm not entirely sure there will ever be any way to fix me. I self-destruct and ruin because I know no other way. I don't know how to put faith in a person, to believe them without doubt, to trust their ability to stay. People are fickle, never a sure thing, unless that sure thing is the complete and total capacity to fuck you up."

One From a Look Through Time Two Years Ago

Final things I think you should know: I don't know if this will be my last message, I would like to give you peace of mind and say yes, but it probably wouldn't be true. You know, this whole time I kept thinking that it was just about finding the right words. Words that would touch your heart. But here's something I think you'll care more about. The actual story. I bother you because I miss you. That plain and simple and selfish. And not the person you were a year ago, not the person you were when we were together, the person you are right now, in this very moment. Have you ever missed someone so much that you can feel it inside you, you can feel it in every bone in your body, every beat your heart makes. And I keep thinking if I could say one thing to you, one thing you heard, what would it be? And the two things that come to mind are so basic, I've said them to you before, you've said them to me, and we've said them to other people. But maybe, just this once you'll hear my voice, and the sincerity behind my words. You know there's this quote by Rumi and it says "you have to keep breaking your heart til it opens." I was in a thrift store today looking at books and I lost it, then again, I lose it everywhere. But I was thinking about being that giant bookstore in Georgia and wanting and wishing more than anything in the whole world that you were there with me. I know as soon as I got home that day I apologized to you for whatever we weren't getting along for. I remember that overwhelming feeling of love, even in the middle of this argument. And in that moment today, my heart shattered, not shattered the way it did the day I left but shattered open. There were things that I didn't even realize til today that I should be apologizing for and I'm sure there are things you can think of that I still don't realize I need to apologize for. So for every single fight we had, I'll take blame, I'm sorry, every time I message you, I'm sorry, every time I ever made you feel inadequate, I'm sorry, every time you think something terrible about you or me, I'm sorry. Originally, I wanted a chance to explain. I thought if you could hear my side of things, it'd make sense to you, and honestly, it probably would, but I don't care about that anymore, I quit caring about my explanations a while ago, they don't matter, all that matters is I'm so fucking sorry. I've had various thoughts ruminating in my head these past few day. By not coming back, are you also punishing yourself? For being a "bona fide loser." Did you not going back have anything to do with me and my presence being here? Do you think I wouldn't like you anymore? Do you think I'd try to make you quit drugs? So here's the second thing I think you should know. I don't care what you've done, I don't care what kind of state you think you're in, I don't care who you think you are or what's left of you or who you've become. I love you. I loved who you were, I love who you are right now, and I love who you're going to become. Love isn't based on circumstance, I don't love you as long as your personality stays that way, I love you, regardless of all else. Without strings, without conditions, and love covers all wrongs. I will always love you, no matter what. I'm sorry and I love you. Shitty line, not well written but wholeheartedly true. Now there is something I would like to give you an explanation for, not because I feel the need to but because I think you deserve it. I know you say it started to feel like you were walking on eggshells and here's why. I don't know if you can remember this but when we first got together, you and Andrew had had a falling out or something, and you guys weren't hanging out. But you started up again. And do realize how fucking stupid this is about to sound. I know you know that you and Andrew bring out the immature in each other, and that's how you were acting, not towards me but in general. And it was starting to get under my skin, and I was trying so hard not to say anything because I didn't want you to even consider quitting Andrew to make me happy. I should've talked to you about it, but I didn't and I guess those feelings came out in other ways. And when you were talking about coming back, you kept asking for proof that I would stay. And I didn't know how to give you that. But I know now. My biggest fear was living without you. And now I am, and I can honestly say it is hell on Earth, pure unadulterated hell. And there is nothing in this world that would ever make me willingly pick this. I know you said that I'm the one that created this hole inside you, but I'm also, the only one that can fill it. I want to. My offer will always stand. I will always love you, always want you.

Potential Excerpt from Aforementioned Non Existent Book or Just One That Hits Too Close to Home

"Do you love me," she asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Why? I'm so damn reckless, so damn destructive."
"That's one way to look at it."
"What's another?"
"You are so alive, so determined to feel. So content on feeling the warmth from the sun, content on standing in the rain, content on looking up at the stars in the sky. So content on passion for the ordinary, until it becomes extraordinary."
She thought for a moment. Then responded, "but sometimes I'm so awfully dead inside. Sometimes I don't even know who I am or what I want? I'm not even sure I'm alive. Sometimes, I think my brain could just explode, all my thoughts scattered on the wall for everyone to see."
"Is that why you'd rather be alone? So no one can see?"

One From a Good Day

I wish you could've seen me today. Not because the short hair was starting to suit me, or because I look good with a tan. But because today, I'm trying. I'm trying to let the vastness of the lake remind me how small some things are, and how much space others take up. My toes digging in the sand anchor me to the day, the 24 hours in front of me. Today, I'm excited. And today I wish you were here to see something we both spend so much time thinking we've lost. Hope. I wish you were here to see the best parts of you flow through someone else. To see something other than the ugliness you've come to believe surrounds you. Because you're so much more than you can see.

One to An Old Friend

I remember being in high school, feels like forever ago now, and having a moment where I felt something for you, and a moment later in time where you felt something for me. Two people whose own separate universes could never line up at the same time. I also remember a fight, a big one. I think, perhaps you got into some business that was not yours. I also remember a year later. A whole year went by, and I am a different person, scarred and broken, and confused, mostly by my own self. At work, sweeping out a basement, I check my phone and bam there you are. You're apologizing for this time last year. Why? Why did you think of me now? We have all graduated and moved on with our lives, but here you are. Why am I worth it now, when I must not have been a year ago. Then, it begins. We start hanging out, not all the time, but two people who hang out with each more than anyone else. We are both busy with our own lives, so we do lots of breakfast, but is there really a better meal to celebrate with someone? Then, you met her. The girl you have been waiting on since your last heartbreak. She is new and unknown to me. I get dropped, and I just accept it, because I mean really what would I do anyways? My life goes on too, past things become current things and I find myself in a new relationship too. All good things must come to an end eventually though. It's another year later, and once again, my life is completely different. You come up out of the blue again. This time with an invitation to hang. I accept and you show up, with her. She is nice, awfully chatty though. Not really what I saw you ending up with, but she seems good. We chill and you drop me off, safe and sound. And like that, you're gone again, just a whisper on the wind. It's been some odd number of months now, and this time, I come to you. I still end up with more questions than answers. What did you want from me? Am I only worth a thought once a year? What was I to you, if anything? Why?

One From Where I Was Angry (hurricane was a strong word)

If any of you would quit your selfish behavior for two seconds, you would know that I don't have any interest in attempting to get him back. For starters, I am sorry. Not because he deserves to hear it, but because it deserves to be said. No one is perfect and there are so many things I could've done different. And for the other thing, do you have any idea how desperate I must have been. I asked him because he was two minutes from me, and when you're stuck and you need out, you'll take whatever outlet you can get. I know you two like to live as fast and as cold as possible, but not all of us have that luxury. Grant is a tsunami, a hurricane of disaster in my life. All you two think about is your own misery, never once accounting for the misery you cause other people. It's ok to destroy others and beat them down because people have done it to you. I may fuck up consistently, but at least my intentions are noble.