I – Insecure

When you hold me, I am not fully there

I am not…I am not aware of all that is between us

Stuck in my own head I grin and bear it

Suck it up and pretend to love it

Your soft whispers and Your wondering eyes

Your hands that hold, gently touching mine

To insecure to let you know

I stopped loving you a long time ago

I used to crave your every word

Lusted for you when the nights were cold

But something changed inside of me

Slowly, slowly I started to grieve

I am not beautiful as you say

Nor am I smart

Wise

Kind

Or brave

I am not a women worthy of your lies

But I guess this shouldn’t come as a suprise

I was never happy with myself

So I pinned it on everyone else

Found my heart in broken things

As if fixing them would fix me

You were just as lost as me

Yet here you stand as proud as can be

I resent this love you feel so deep

Because it can no longer placate me

As you whisper

As you hold

I can feel my heart growing cold

I do not love you anymore

Of this I am aware

Yet I will go on pretending

Praying with all my heart that you can fix me

A/N this took awhile. Sorry about that.

G – Gripping

I am not a fan of writing cliches, acually, I am a huge fan but I am not always tolerant of them.

The basic bad boy who turns his life around thanks to naive little pretty girl who think she is ugly.

Of course they have the techy (or sassy) best friend who is constantly by their side.

They are cliches because they work. We see the princess ready to leave her dull and unappreciative world behind and we wiggle in our seats. We see the handsome warrior who could kill with a single touch bow down to a common women.

“Love is a fickle thing” , we sigh into our drink cups. Clutching our books closer to our face.

But

There is still a problem with them.

Cliches allow readers to a greater understanding of where the story might be going. Rarely do we get stories that pan out a different way. YAs usually end with the girl getting with the outcast. The only times she ends up with the guy who “socially acceptable” is when the other ends up being a villian or is a tool.

The young boy who is trying to avenge his family will manage to do so but it will always come at a cost. His mentor or a family member will die within the first few books, maybe even the first few chapters. He may end up with a love interest but rarely will they stay together.

So I always know what story I am getting when I start to read. I know how it will end even if I do not know all the details that will lead to that point.

As I said before, cliche are considered such because they are overused but because they also work. There are only so many ways a story can go and patterns are really hard to deviate from. Yet, many readers and publishing companies expect writers to always be original no matter what. If they are not then there is a good chance their book will not be accepted.

Should we celebrate that fact?

I do not think so.

I despise cliches but I also love them. I am comforted by the fact that I can see the ending a mile away. Because I live for the journey. I live for those moments where the author gives me something I was not expecting. Like a book in which the sick person truly does die at the end.

Or a story where the boy was not able to avenge his family.

A story where the couple breaks up at the end

Or maybe one where, dispite the odds stacked against them, the villian is the one who wins.

I love those moments of uncertainty and I love those moments of clarity.

I guess it is the weirdo in me.

E – Emotions

I do not need you to save me

To help me understand

I am not wise

Am far from kind

But you can not save me

I am a monster

With my emotions

My actions cause you pain

You with blood on your hands

You with hatred in your eyes

Try to disguise

To save my soul

But I am to far gone for hope

A/N I have some catching up to do. Was not feeling well.

D – Destroying a Friendship with Love

Today I told my therapist that I did not know what real friends looked like. All I learned about relationships was through a book or TV screen. Real life friends are vastly different from the reality I would sneak away to as a child. The one filled with dragons, and princesses, and ghost, and those with way more freedom then I.

Normal people scare me, though I guess this is not all that hard to see. I tend to struggle to be myself often letting my written word take precedence over my spoken one. See, I am believe in always telling the truth if I can help it. Written words can tell no lies. So the real me can be found in the things I do not say but in the things I write.

But I guess this is not the most ideal way to communicate with others. Maybe that is why I do not really know what it means to have “adult” friends. I have never had it modeled to me. Still, I can not say that I do not have friends.

I have one very precious to me and, though she may drive me crazy sometimes, I hold her very near and dear to my heart. I can remember what she told me when I explained to her what made her different from the rest. See, her and I share things that I do not share with others. I do not tell my others friends how I feel through everything that I go to. I do not go into details if asked how I am doing. I honestly, do not think many of them would care. Still, I call them friend because they are kind to me. I value their time even if they do not understand the true me, the real unfiltered me. Not like this friend does anyways. With her I do not always feel shame. Maybe this is because we were both stuck in our fictional worlds for such a long time. She knows what I mean when I say that I feel nothing while smiling. She knows what I mean when I say that when everything as I am trying to force myself to sleep. She just gets it.

And yet, I question this friendship because it reminds me of the reality I had as a child. There are times when I think she is a figment of my imagination. I will just wake up to discover that her, her little girl, and my own are not real. I feel it coming and I am afraid. And she understands that even if she does not share the same pain.

I think this is love of which friendships are suppose to be based on. I say this because there are times when I do not understand it and she is often made to explain this emotions. Love is silent. It creeps up on people when they least expected and is not always that easy to see. There are times when we do not know that it is there. Anger, sadness, rage, depression can disguise it in ways you don’t even know. But that does not mean it has gone away.

With this friend, I am not always happy with her. There are times when she makes me feel so terrible. There have been times when I wanted to never speak to her again. But love is a fickle thing and also catches me off guard. Like those times when I am angry with her but she comes up and tells me that she appreciates me. There was a day when I decided I would tell her that I never wanted to speak to her again but she messaged me asking me if I was OK. She told me that I was an amazing person and that she was so happy to have me as her friend. At that moment I realized that my anger was unnecessary and we talked through things.

We talk.

Even when one of us is being an ass.

We talk.

I do not think this is something that a lot of people would comprehend as good thing.

See, I created a reality to escape the pain. It taught me to see monsters in everyone. I do not trust easily and can speak a lie like the best of them leaving only my written word to be truth. I did this because I was afraid to be alone but to afraid to reach out and make connections. While in her own reality my friend flourished under the same turmoil. So is it any surprise that we get along so well?

I was not lying when I told my therapist I knew nothing of friendship. I am too flawed, to jaded by life, to be able to really be a decent one to anybody. But with her by my side I am OK with this. Neither of us wanted to be perfect anyways.

~

This blog idea came to me thank to The Dream Girl Writes from her A to Z challenge post titled Annoying Friends. I wanted to show my friend how much she meant to me in the best way possible and seeing The Dream Girl Writes post made me think that creating this post would be a good way to show it.

To my best friend Jen, You are absolutely one of the most amazing person to ever play a part in my life. We may not always make the right choices in our friendship but it is one of the purest there is. You mean so much to me and I am so happy to know that our children share the same bond. May we break the cycle of those who came before and raise them to be amazing little humans as well. My bestie westie for all ways Jen.

And thank you Dream Girl for that wonderful first start to the A to Z challenge! I wish you all the luck.

~ I am proud to say that my best friend also has a blog (peer pressure at its finest lol) you can read some of her work here. I may be a bit biased but she is a really talented writer.

Edit: I just found out last night that my friend and I had the same idea for a post. So make sure to read her post for C – Catharsis

Con troll me (Control)

I am struggling.

For reasons I can not control I find myself thinking of you.

And no matter how much I fight it I find that I do not have the ability to stop.

You.

Who used to feed me tasteless lies upon a platter

You.

Who used to bruise my body and scream “What’s the matter”???

As if my bleeding lips And busted up tongue

Could convey sweet words when I had none.

I should have seen it from the swastika on your chest.

You

Who hold yourself above the rest as if You

Yes you

Are a God among men

But I am lacking in faith and reasons

Once I begin to feel again I begin

To miss

You.

Who tore my dress because you said it was ugly

You.

Who blamed me for every cigarette burn and broken knobs on doors

You.

Who always swore it was my fault as you ripped my body apart.

You ripped my ravaged body apart…

And for reasons I can not control I find myself

Almost

Missing you

Yes

You

Who on our wedding day who made my legs a pretty shade of purple and blue.

You

Who called my job and told them I lied about the money that went missing that one night

Despite

Fucking despite

The fact that I was not even there

But you

Do you care?

As I struggle to find air around listless tress

Doctors and officers telling me that all will be ok

But it isn’t

It never will

Because you broke me

And made me feel a love so twisted and vicious that I become so fucking addicted

God am I so addicted

But it doesn’t matter anymore

Because I am now crawling in the floor begging for someone

Anyone

Knowing full well that it is you that I want

AND I FUCKING HATE IT!

I HATE me

But this lack of control gives me something to believe in

Because as I sit thinking of you

Yes you

Who nearly succeded in making me your wonton whore

I scream a little

While wishing for more.

Soo this is a rough draft. I do not like it at all but I forgot today was C so yea. Will post it anyways.

Back in my day…

As a child I read a lot of books that were probably really bad for me. Romance novels, mystery novels, novels where someone important died at end and I was to little to realize that crying over fictional characters would get me laughed at as I aged. I am totally over that though, no hard feelings towards people who made fun of my…well.. my feelings. I am going on a tangent here…

See, back in my day romance had a different flavor. I was to little to understand how authors battled each other for the spotlight. To me they wrote for the fun of it and weren’t oppressed by societies expectations. They did not feel the same pain us lowly untalented plebs went through. It was until I was older that I learned any differently but still I drowned myself in the worlds of others. Teaching myself to see through their eyes with a greater understanding then my peers. I wanted to witness love from places reality could not touch.

So is it any wonder that I feel in love with R.L Stine‘s Fear Street Series.

Yes, I know what you are thinking “R.L Stine isn’t a romance writer”. In this you would be correct but the thing is romance written for children and young adults do not look the same for romances for adults. We get things like Hunger Games, Twilight, Looking For Alaska, Remember me, and Green Angel. Books that may have some romantic elements but cover a wide range of other genres. These are our introductions into the world of romance. As adults we will get to read books that are actually centered about the idea of love but until then we are traumatized into thinking that the dude with the murder boner for innocent people is our fated mate.

So yea, I got my twisted ideas of romance on the lap of the dude who gave us Goosebumps.

Back in my day bad boys ruled the world. The badder the better. I feel in love with the maniac murderer because he was the only one to treat the protagonist with any sort of kindness. I mean sure, he shot some dude in the face but true love concurs all. OK yea, he was stalkish and creepy, but did you hear him describe the way she looked as he watched her while she was sleeping.

Swoon




A-Absolution

HEART

Stories of love are intimidating because they are a constant reminder of what I do not have, what I am afraid to strive for.

I absolutely do not want anything to do with love.

But what is love?

What drives some to want it and makes others despise it?

It is a weakness or a strength?

Honestly, there is no clear answer to these questions.

Love is subjective and prompted to change from one person to the next. There are times when it can give someone the power to overcome all adversary. Yet it also has the power to turns one insane.

Is it safe to assume that it is a neutral feeling considering all that it can do?

This I do not know.

But what I do know is that I do not want it. I do not want to risk my heart in the hands of someone else. I do not think I could handle if it went the way I always it to. While I know that love may surprise me I am just not sure. Maybe this makes me weak but at least I will be weak on my own terms.

AtoZ2019A