I’ve never been big on making a resolution for the sake of it being January 1st. I don’t like forcing myself to make a change on a given day every year. All year round I reflect on the person that I am and the person that I want to be, and I set goals and make changes when necessary. Thats why it’s January 4th, and I’m in my bed scrolling through Facebook. My “resolution” came to me without the pressure of thinking of a new year’s resolution. My heart had the freedom to feel, and to speak up when it wanted to, not when it had to.

It told me to love myself more. To give myself credit when credit is due. To believe in my dreams, and to work persistently to reach them. To let go of my losses and defeats, and to hold onto my gains and successes tighter. To wake up and look in the mirror and have confidence in my inner and outer self. To know what I have to offer the world, and to jump at opportunities that the world offers me. To be proud of who I am. To have faith in the decisions that I make. To live more in the moment, and to have hope in the future.

Thank you for being my first love.

Starry Eyed

I wish I was better at handling loss.

I wish I could accept that people die like flowers

and that lovers move on like the wind.

But I can’t. Because I feel. 

I feel with all of the stars in the sky.

And even the stars fall sometimes.

 

 

I wonder

if I’ll ever read a poem and not think about you.

Melancholy

I have a hard time making peace with the past, because it always seeps its way into my dreams or my thoughts when I’m alone. Even though you are part of my past, my past is a part of me. You are a part of me. Because I wouldn’t be the same “me” I am today without you. I wonder when my heart will be okay again. When my soul will stop yearning for the past and for you.

A letter I’ll never send to you

You met her and you replaced me. Like I was nothing. When you jumped into another relationship, to love another girl like you loved me, I felt like a sinking ship, drowning in my helplessness. It was like watching you die right in front of me because I knew I would never be able to talk to you again, see you, touch you, or kiss you. The feeling of emptiness that I have is the same feeling when someone you love dies. I know it’s hard for you to understand how I’m feeling, because the nine months you’ve spent with her, I’ve spent missing you. You’ve had her to distract you and to fill you with love. You don’t know the loneliness and emptiness that I do. My heart has a gaping hole in it the size of you. And it will always be yours. Even if I find someone else one day, someone that I fall as hard for as I fell for you, he will have to fit somewhere else. Because I loved you too much to ever let someone else take your place. The saddest thing to me is that I feel like you let her take my place.  You put your feelings you had for me into her, and you let her into your heart where I used to be.

Losing You

“There is not one person in this world that could take your place.”

“Our love for one another is going to keep us strong and together forever.”

“I love you with all of my heart and I truly believe that you are the one I’m going to be with for the rest of my life.”

I never thought the words that you said would mean nothing one day. But that day arrived and it was hard. But the next day was even harder. And the day after that was even harder. Because losing someone doesn’t just happen once. It happens over and over again, triggered by memories, sounds, pictures, people, places, songs and everything in between. I lose you every time I see your shirts in my drawer. And then I wear them to bed, because that’s all I have left of you. I lose you every time I hear the rumble of a loud exhaust, hoping that it’s you coming to surprise me like you used to. My heart sinks when I realize it’s just another truck passing by. I lose you when something good happens, and I wish I could call you and tell you. But I can’t. I lose you when I wake up in the morning, after seeing you in my dreams, knowing that you aren’t really here. I lose you when I dance on stage, looking for your face in the crowd, even though I know it isn’t there. Just when I think I can’t lose you any more, I do, and part of myself is gone too.

The day that I lost you was just the beginning of losing you.

Thank you.

I always knew I liked to write, and I wanted to get better, but I never took the time to practice. I didn’t love writing, because I loved you.

I always knew I loved to dance, and I was good at it, but I never knew why.

Losing you helped me find the emotion in dance.

Losing you helped me find the patience to write.

It wasn’t until I lost you, that writing and dance were all I had left. They were my crutches, and I was a broken bone. Every part of me destroyed. I wrote down every word I couldn’t say to you. I danced every step for you.

Losing you helped me find myself.

Another night

I want to kiss you again. I wonder what it would be like. Would it be like the first time? 980 days ago. Or maybe it was 985 days ago. I lost count. Would there be sparks and butterflies and impulsive promises? Would we would stay up talking all night? Would we ask each other what our intentions are, like we did the first night we kissed?

Every day without you blends together in a melting pot of mixed emotions. I would give anything to relive even a bad day with you. Like the days we used to lay in bed and helplessly cry over me leaving for college. Like the 342 days that we loved each other from 330 miles away. I miss the worst days the most because they brought us closest together. I had you and you had me.