Saturday, September 19, 2020

Real as in Relative to Him

 Sit down, shut up, 

and smile. 

Communication is a one way street.

Hurt feelings are just misheard things, 

that serve absolutely no relevance 

to your real life. 

You've spent your whole existence doing this. 

You know the drill. 

A little more of this, a little less of that. 

Losing pieces of yourself to appease your fellow people.

Nothing new, I just thought this was different. 

Love and acceptance your inner child never found, 

don't have a place here.

A smile you perfected at thirteen. 

Practice it long enough and no one notices. 

In the floor of the shower, 

Is your only place to just fully exist. 

You're supposed to laugh there, 

And spread your legs here. 

Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it. 

Half of you can become all of you, 

if no one ever sees the other half. 

Chin up, go cook dinner. 

Tell him everything is fine. 

If you just try harder, 

you'll be his perfect person. 

Someone can finally love you. 


Where the hell is my off switch?

 

Dear Mase,

I hope this letter finds you well, but if you’re anything like me, it won’t. That’s how this whole blog started in the first place. Everyday for a very long time, I would write you a letter. I just missed you so much and I thought if Mase were here right now, what would I tell him? The whole blog was originally supposed to be letters to you. Now, it’s just filled with broken pieces of my life. Little orphan Samantha to be put on display for all of the world to ignore, just like they always have. Do you feel like anyone has ever seen the real you? I used to think that if showed people all of you, that was the only way you knew whether or not they really loved you. Modern Samantha is much more sophisticated in the ways of the world. No one really cares about the real you, as long as you’re a version of yourself they like. I think maybe I just wasn’t meant for all of this. I care about the real in people, I care about how they are. You never want to show me the real you. I think that’s sad. I’ve met several versions of you and they are all my favorite. I just think maybe I wasn’t intended to be around other people. I’ve always been an orphan, which is totally irrelevant, until you realize that being an orphan, means you never got fulfilled as a child. It means when no one loves you, you’re not really surprised. When no one cares about the real you, it’s just another day. You know, my whole life, I always thought if I could just find one person in the whole world who really cared about it, and took my hand and took me far away from everything else I had known out of life, I’d be the luckiest kid in the whole world. But the truth is, at least in my case, there’s a reason no one ever really loved me on the inside. I’ve spent my whole life altering myself to be less emotional, less unhappy, less fucked up. I thought having a home would change those things, that was stupid. A fraction of yourself is still yourself, right? I think you know a little bit about that. The difference is, people would still love you, you’re scared of what’s on your inside, not them. I, on the other hand, am best served when my inner child is buried and shut down. When I die, do you think anyone will really care if they knew the real me? Do you think they’ll even know the difference? Not if you smile big enough. There’s a reason I never had anyone really there for me. There’s a reason none of them spent time with me/ There’s a reason I was always last. There’s a reason every single person I have ever known has left me abandoned. I guess they all did me a favor? I never thought the shit that happened to me would come back and bite me in the ass, no matter who said it would. That just makes me a whole idiot. But it’s good, teach them early. People only want the absolute best version of you, it doesn’t matter what inside of you has to die to make that possible. I don’t think there’s a single person in my whole life that was ever happy to see me. I was always best served quiet and ignored. No one ever cared how many nights I spent awake alone, no one ever counted how many birthday’s I spent alone, no one ever, never, not once in my whole life, laid down beside me and cared about how I felt inside or what was going through my head. No one ever texts me and asks me if I’m okay. Why would God put you on a planet surrounded with people, and no once has anyone ever listened without the need to respond and hear themselves talk. I’m still alive, that’s all that matters to everyone, right? Just once, I just wanted one person to ask about my insides. I hope wherever you’re at right now, you feel surrounded by the people that I know love you. I think your insides matter. You used to be a great listener, and I think I really needed this. Life won’t be so bad. I’ll do better for you. I’ll be happier, smile more, feel less, throw away sadness, it’ll be great for you. I wish you wanted to talk about yourself sometimes, I’m not totally ugly on the inside. Wishing you good things for your future. – Samantha

Wednesday, August 12, 2020

One From a Couple of Years Ago: Late Night Thoughts

Maybe we just shouldn’t be together anymore.

Maybe tomorrow you’ll be nicer.

Maybe some day soon you’ll have a change of heart,

And treat me different.

Maybe this is all a ploy for revenge.

What would happen if I ran away?

If you love someone, why don’t you want to be nice to them?

Why am I only important when I cry?

Do I deserve this?

Is this gaslighting?

Are my emotions and feelings irrelevant because I’m a woman?

Do men really not want to hear me talk?

Are men mean because they think you’re too independent?

Why am I always perceived as angry or in a bad mood,

If I’m not happy and rainbows and sunshine?

Why do I feel like if I just sat down and looked pretty,

I’d be liked more.

Would I be treated this way if other people were around?

Is this because I’m not helpless enough?

Maybe I attract toxicity.

Why is everything I feel wrong?

Do men understand what sounds ugly to a woman?

There was that one time, with that one post,

Where, how, if men hit walls,

It’s because they want you to know,

How much they want to hit you.

Why are anger problems a justifiable excuse?

Why are you unable to handle your emotions,

But I am expected to?

Why is it okay to say I can’t take this,

Every time you fight with someone?

Does treating someone like this really feel okay to you?

Maybe some men don’t know how to argue,

Or face their demons,

Or take responsibility,

Or care about you beyond the effect it has on themselves.

If someone takes the problems you have with them,

And spits your lines back out to you,

Is that gaslighting?

Maybe men just want to control you.

No one gets to decide what faces I make,

What am I allowed to say,

Whether or not I can leave my house,

Except me.

Maybe some people don’t know what love is.

Maybe some people don’t care what love is to you.

Why do people always say they are going to change, but never do?

Why do men expect you to notice their every mood shift,

When they never see how upset you are?

Maybe men don’t really care about your mental health.

Maybe you’re only worth being nice to if your legs are open.

Do my dogs get scared?

Do they feel safe here?

Why don’t I feel valued?

Why does everything I do get questioned?

Do I not have the right to play on my phone?

Do I not have the right to be on my own laptop?

Do I not have the right to not answer the cell phone

That I pay for?

Why do I get treated like I’m shady?

I don’t even lie.

If someone is only nice to you,

When you’re not upset or angry,

Are they really nice?

Friday, July 10, 2020

One that Never Got Finished

We are all just atoms,
circling around the Earth. 
Bumping into each other. 

We are just clusters of cells,
rejuvenating in the hopes
it will give us a fresh start.

We are every night,
we stayed up too late,
because another force in this
universe made us feel like we 
couldn't sleep.

We are just the coffee we 
drink and the things we read.

We are every feeling and 
every emotion,
trapped inside of us,
dying for air. 

We are just bits of stardust,
trying to find our way back into space.  

Thursday, July 9, 2020

Unanswered Questions

Do you love me?
Eagerly, all-consuming?
Do you crave my touch?
Dream of my kiss?
Do you whisper my name?
When you’re alone?
In hopes I’ll show up?
Could you survive inside?
Without me?
Or do you love me lightly?
Do I make a pretty center-piece?
To your life?
Does my food taste good?
Do I feel warm?
Am I home every night?
Am I welcoming?
A comfortable place?
To lay your head?

Monday, April 20, 2020

Dead End Celebrations

Why is it,
that I only crave you
when I'm fucked up?
So high, you're the
only thing I can see.
Blitzed out of my
fucking mind,
so my world revolves
solely around you.
Can't sleep and
my head is
filled with thoughts
of you.
Touch me, feel me,
need me.
Take me all the way up,
until I come down,
and see the real you.

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Soul Sucking Jobs

More time.
More effort.
More.
Time.
More.
Effort.
More.
Time.
More.
Effort.
Your feelings?
Irrelevant.
Your personal life?
Nonexistent.
Ass in seat.
Blurry face.
Say nothing.
Be nobody.
Make less than everybody else.
Sell your soul.
What you do is important.
If you don't do it, someone else will.

Saturday, February 1, 2020

Seven Promises

Here is a list in my notes of seven promises I made to Grant when we first started dating. Seven promises he never got to hear, an unfinished piece of work, and why I failed at half of them. One, I promise to love you honestly and wholeheartedly. This is one thing I can honestly say I didn't fail at. I have always only had eyes for Grant and only pursued him. I wouldn't be here if that wasn't where I was at. If that's not where you're at, save yourself the trouble and leave. I promise to always remember that you are a human with feelings and emotions and always treat you as such. This one comes with its own personal struggles. It's hard to take someone's feelings and emotions into account when they are not keen on discussing their feelings and emotions. It's hard to build that level of understanding of someone's heart when it's made out to be this giant secret. In short, I don't always succeed at this. However, over the years, I do honestly think this is the most considerate I have ever been. I came from very selfish beginnings so everything is a process. I promise to always make an effort to meet you in the middle. This is also a tricky one. As it turns out, meeting in the middle means different things to different people. My idea of meeting in the middle is attempting to get over arguments and attempting to forgive in a timely manner. Grant's idea of meeting in the middle is the ability to apologize first. Turns out, we need to meet in the middle on what meeting in the middle means to each of us. Once again, I come from very humble beginnings. Fights are weeks long and apologies are nonexistent. The ability to quickly move on with an apology given to me, seems like a pretty sweet deal to me. I didn't come from a very forgiving family and sometimes it's really hard to leave your past behind. Once again, I failed here. Fourth, I promise to always respect and honor you even when you're not around. This one is fifty-fifty, like a half fail. I do not trash talk to other people. I do not speak bad on Grant's name. I used to have an argument friend. One friend who I would vent to if we were in an argument, but as a general rule, do not shit talk your partner to others. It's poison to any healthy relationship. However, to his face? There has definitely been some nasty name calling. Name calling is not an always and it's not a constant, but it is hard to forget when it does rear it's nasty head. How do you successfully argue when angry? Someone figure that out and let me know. I promise to always appreciate time with you. This, I actually do. I love spending time together. I love movie nights, dinner dates, and car rides when they are filled with actual conversation. I appreciate time with Grant because I know how many years I lost, let me say that again, I personally lost. As in, moments where I threw away years. That's an awful feeling. I promise to be your best friend always. I can honestly say, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Grant is my best friend. There is no one else I share my life with in that way. Grant is the first on any news, the first opinion I ask, and normally the only that matters. And lastly, I promise to be considerate of how much you do for me and not take you for granted. Here, I can say I do appreciate the things that Grant does for me physically. Everyone appreciates ice cold water and a made bed and a warm towel. The problem here is, Grant thinks that should make me happy. It's a very lovely gesture, but it's not a cover up for discussing actual emotional things and it's not a cover up for someone who is genuinely happy with their lives, and someone is genuinely happy to see you. Physically though, man is grade A. Emotionally, I think he could use some help.