Clarity

Lately I have been
Quiet
Introspective
I’ve taken a step away from everything for a while in the hopes of clearing my head
Things had gotten too messy
Two weeks ago I had no idea what I wanted, but I knew I could no longer go on living the way I was.
Sometimes I get so caught up in the idea of something
The excitement of something
That I lose clarity completely.
I was lured in and completely captivated for all the wrong reasons.
There he was
Handsome
Young
Interesting
Adventurous
And he wanted me?
Somewhere inside my 15 year old self was in awe and a state of ultimate and paralyzing flattery.
So
I ventured away
I immersed myself into a cool and deep pool of enchantment.
Finally
After heaving myself out of the water
After the water had cleared from my eyes
I realized that the enchantment wasn't quite what I thought it would be.
I felt foolish
And I was left standing on my own
Dripping wet with disappointment.
I desperately longed for everything I had so quickly and willingly given up:
Warmth
Comfort
Love.
I spent time alone for a while until I had reached my moment of clarity:
What's really important is to find someone who loves you
On both your good days
And your bad
And stick by them
Because they'll always stick by you.
I always make an honest effort to learn from my mistakes
And now I know that the one who inspires me
Who held my hand when my face was a mess
Who motivates me
Who moves me
Should never be taken for granted.
I am my own person
I finally feel deep down that that's true
But I like being my own with you.

Thoughts

Last night the build up of everything I've been feeling for the past couple of weeks enveloped me and dragged me into its darkness. Things that I used to enjoy seem to do nothing for me anymore. I've slipped into this combination of dissatisfaction and a feeling of helplessness. I'm dreadfully bored with my life and I can't seem to put a finger on why. Just recently it's occurred to me that without change, my life feels trivial and empty. I've always thought of myself as someone who needs consistency and stability in life, but apparently that's not the case. I'm going to get myself some help, some real help. It's a big step for me but I feel like it's time to stop avoiding the inevitable. I've thought about seeing a therapist or counselor for a few years now but was too fearful of ever admitting it out loud. Even now I'm really struggling with picking up the phone and making an appointment for myself. Last night all I could do was stare at the number on my screen and try to pretend like I didn't have an overwhelming need to cry right on the spot. It's a scary thing, admitting you actually need help. I've always taken pride in handling things internally and holding my own. I don't see myself as a very needy person, and I secretly despise the thought of being dependent on someone else for a pick-me-up or something of the sort. But depression runs deep in my family and I can feel myself spiraling into something bigger than anything I can handle on my own.

Utilitarianism

In my philosophy lecture we’ve been discussing the views of utilitarianism. A utilitarian essentially believes that every action you perform should completely maximize the happiness of the individual whom the action most affects. Of course there are a lot of controversies, issues, and other factors that play into this ideal, but recently we’ve been focusing on the utilitarian’s perspective of judgment of character. What makes a person good or bad? Some believe that the actions directly reflect the person’s character and depth of intentions. The utilitarian, however, stands firm with the whole "not of the act, but of the agent" ordeal. Actions could be morally wrong, but intentions tower over these actions like a looming unbreakable force. I’ve begun to wonder how a utilitarian (or any person in general) would perceive me if they knew the length and carelessness of my actions. Within these past few months I've undoubtedly failed to be the best version of myself I could be. Daughter, friend, girlfriend, human being. I've made decisions that benefit one while simultaneously bringing others down, but all the while meaning well. Is the phrase "actions speak louder than words" complete bullshit? Is there any chance that I still make the cut for the "good person" category despite my despicable actions?

The White Door

The dark shadows of an empty kitchen.
The hum of the fridge.
The muffled thumps of the music just behind the heavy white door.
Its click when you unlocked it
Its creak when you pushed it open
The darkness of it
The wholeness of it
As it led me into where we were months and months ago.
The hair I was trying to pull off of my neck
Your eyes I was trying to pretend I didn't notice
The silence I was desperately hoping would remain.
It didn't.
"I would take back France for you."
Echoing through my head
Like a record on a loop.
Why?
I didn't want to know.
Instead I smiled at that heavy white door
Politely requesting it pull me back out
The click of the lock
The light pouring in
The moving bodies
The sticky air
The desire to leave you behind
(half-hearted)
Trying my best to do so.

The Queen

Once upon a time there was a wide-eyed girl with spiral curls and a nervous tick
and her mother was the queen of the world.
In the girl's eyes, her mother knew everything there was to know.
The queen would answer the girl's questions
seamlessly
effortlessly
and the girl would smile up at her with satisfaction
flaunting the juxtaposed truth and bragging,
"my mom told me so".
Years later, the little girl will sprout
tall and curious.
She will glance down at the Queen and ask,
"are you answers justified?"
and the Queen will shake her head profusely
as if there is no other truth.
But the girl will finally see
the stubborn flecks in her mother's eyes
the ignorance in her tone
and realize that,
maybe the Queen still has a lot of growing up to do.

------------------

After the fight I had with my mother I realized that the words I threw at her were pointless and a complete waste of breath.
I had hung up the phone upset, but satisfied, thinking maybe I had gotten through to her, maybe opened her eyes. I had finally gotten to stand up to her and tell her what I really felt.
But later, once my throat reopened and my eyes had dried, I knew that my mother was only scoffing on the other end of the conversation, thinking of me exclusively as some naive child who has no idea what she's talking about.
She has yet to realize that I'm not a child anymore, but that I've formed my own opinions, beliefs, ideals
separate from her own. I have become an individual and either she has yet to accept that or she just doesn't want to.
My relationship with my parents has always been rocky
but after this I feel a permanent pressure against my ribs
because a gate has been opened
and I've been flooded with the realization of how different we really are
and how that will never change.

I've Experienced My First Healthy Breakup

Seth and I got coffee yesterday afternoon, in between my intense studying and mini panic attacks.
And it was nice. Refreshing.
He was skinnier than I remembered, he looked good.
We sat down and talked for two hours like nothing had changed.
He instantly apologized for everything, and said he had never intended to go to France leaving things with us the way he did. He told me he regretted keeping up so many walls when he was with me, refusing to let me in, and he said he didn't think I deserved that.
He also said that maybe it was good I had those five months away from him. He said he was glad that I was able to find someone that made me happy and to figure out what I wanted. He even told me that my boyfriend seemed like a really nice guy.
I was so shocked at how forward he was being about the whole thing that I was unsure of what to say first.
As I looked at him from across the table, I could tell that he genuinely meant every word. I saw how much he had changed and how much he had matured. And I smiled because I was glad for him.
I felt more at ease talking to him than ever before, because there were no more barriers between us.

As we reminisced over our relationship, I realized what I completely different person I was back then. Lazy, sloppy, too quiet, making poor health decisions, and unsure of pretty much everything. He and I got together at such a strange time in my life, when I was transitioning into reality, and discovering my ideal self. Seth even commented on how much I've changed, and it felt good that he saw it too. We touched on all of our old topics like religion and politics and general philosophizing and a warm feeling of pride surged over me, because I had finally formed my own strong opinions on everything and could give my input, rather than just let Seth talk at me.

Once we got up to leave, we hugged goodbye and he gave me a friendly smile and told me to take care. It was one chapter of my life that actually felt good to turn the page on, rather than wanting to throw the book across the room.

Self Loathing

My actions serve me with empty compliments on a silver platter

I grab at them, hopeful for the density and meaning they will fill me with

But the words are deceivingly flaky and useless 

They fill me with air and air alone

The more I consume, the more I desire

But I don't care about much anymore

So I eat them up nonetheless

And shrug off the bitter aftertaste 

and the total comprehension and complete understanding that comes with it

and walk around wide-eyed and innocent

as if I don't know exactly what I'm doing.