Dear Dad

Atheism, Blame, Church, dancing, Family, fathers, feminism, fuck you, god, Humanist, Journal, Love, Perfect

Dear dad,
I want you to know that I love you. I haven’t been able to say that in an incredibly long time. I haven’t been able to admit to myself in years that I love you.

I want you to know that you have hurt me – that I suffer on a daily basis because of your reckless actions.

I want you to know that because of your abusive actions, I was forced to become an adult at 13.

I want you to know that I hurt every time I see a picture or a mention of you on social media, because I have desperately tried to cut you out of my life.

I want you to know that because you weren’t there for me as a little girl, I tried to find love in a ruthless world. In a world where finding love is genuinely difficult – where I am taught to not love myself. In a world where having you by my side would have solved a lot of problems. I wanted you there.

I want you to know that I want you to love me more desperately than I’ve ever wanted anything else.

I want you to know that I don’t expect you to come back into my life, that I don’t expect anything from you, that this has made me bitter, hurt, and angry.

Which is why I hate to say I love you. Why it is bitter for me to say I love you. Why I roll my eyes at myself and am left in confusion when I say I love you, because I shouldn’t.

You abused me.
You don’t pay for child support.
You ignore my text messages.
You controlled me.
You manipulated my perception of myself.
You hurt me beyond all means.
You were not there for me.
You never made the effort to reenter my life.

I have every reason to hate you.
But I don’t.

I should.
But I don’t.

I want to hate you,
But I can’t.

Despite all you have done to me, I regret to inform you that I love you. I know that this doesn’t change our relationship – that it will continue as per the legal documents instruct; That we will see each other on the holidays listed, that I will no longer be on your insurance at 26, that you won’t be responsible for my child support after 18, and so forth.

But by this point, I should be used to not having you in my life. Or not having your “financial support”, which you have only given me once. I should understand that you only have me in your life when it’s convenient for you, when it looks good to that girl you wanna date, or when it helps you get custody of my little sister in court.

I understand that the extent of your love for me ended when you found out I was an atheist, that I wasn’t going to stand for you trying to convert me back to Christianity. You never tried to talk to me after that last weekend.

Remind me again why I should love you?


This Is the Post

Journal, Personal, Relationships

I’m impulsive, and I have feelings as well. Those two things together do not work well, when they combine in a person shit tends to go down and messes are made, life gets fucked up.

But because I am impulsive and emotional, I do things like I am right now. I do things like confess shit.

And once I get it in my head that I want to do something emotional and impulsive, there is literally no stopping me, because both of those things take hold and just run with whatever it is. And then my logical side is like “Yo, girl, what the fuck are you doing? You need to chill tf out and stop right now because jesus christ you’re insane.” but I never stop, and it is really not a good thing.

I know how this is going to play out too – I’m going to finish writing this piece, then I’ll reread it about three times, post it, reread it (and find a typo, at which point I’ll go back in and fix it) and then I’ll contemplate if sending this to you is really the best idea. I’ll come to the conclusion that it’s not, but I’ll do it anyway. Because fuck it, life is short and we have to live it to it’s fullest while we still can. But then you’ll get the link, and I’ll be like oh fuck he’s read it, and I’ll wait about ten minutes, at which point I’ll start worrying because TEN MINUTES, and you might start typing. You might respond. But you might also not. At this point, there’s only speculation about what will happen. And that speculation is why I’ll send it.

So, you probably know this, because I wasn’t trying to hide it (I wanted to be fucking obvious, anyway). But I like you, not in the friend way. I like you in the kind of way that I would like to drink tea with you on cold days while reading our favorite books and cuddling with a fluffy cat kinda way. I like you in the kind of way that takes over a person’s mind, and I can’t think about much else. In the kind of way that I want you to know.

But I’m decently intelligent, and I know that the odds are not in my favor. I know that we have been sharing awkward glances, and that what happened before wasn’t ideal (I mean, you’ve seen my boobs and I came into the band room and realized you weren’t interested in me because well, it was just obvious). But because I am a hopeless romantic and I am overwhelmed with the intense need to express these feelings in a very obvious and cringe-worthy way, I figured why the hell not? (Actually, I have come up with about a million reasons to not do this, and just about one that I should, but I’m doing it anyway.)

I like you. I like your hair, your laugh, your awkward gestures during PE, I like that we both despise the same people in class, that you play in band, that you seem emotional and caring, that you’re not obnoxious and loud, I honestly just like you. I like that you smile in an innocent, yet knowing way. That you aren’t an asshole. I like that you are compassionate and won’t directly tell me to back off because you’re really just a nice person. I like you. A lot.

I know this is futile, that you’re either not over your ex or you just simply do not feel the same way, but I wanted to tell you. It’s going to make my life miserable, and I’ll avoid you 110% more than I already was, and I’ll act like I’m not watching you out of the corner of my eye, but I will be, and I’ll act like I didn’t see you when I pass you at school, or that I haven’t noticed our math classes are adjacent, but I will have noticed these things. I won’t be able to ignore them.

So yeah, I have feelings for you.


Life sucks

fuck you, Journal, Personal

I’m such a sad excuse for a person. I am affected way too easily by others. I’m not even taking the SAT. Apparently that’s really important and I just got chewed out by my sister for not doing it, even though we wouldn’t have been in town for it anyway.

But really. What am I doing with my life that’s even worthwhile? I do nothing productive. I’m 17 and I don’t even have a job yet. I don’t get A’s. I fail at almost everything I try to do. I can’t even keep my room clean, how the fuck am I supposed to be an adult? Go to college? Get a car? Jesus christ. I don’t even have a car to get me to community college. I haven’t taken the SAT. I’m not taking the SAT. Fuck. I’m wasting so much of my time. I can’t even run a fucking mile in under ten minutes. By nearly every standard except my own, I am failing at life. I couldn’t remember to do my physics vocab on time, how will I remember to pay my bills? How will I pay my bills without a job? How can I get a job without a car? How do I get a car? Money gets you a car. How can I make money when I’m dedicating all my time to getting good grades, and even then I get bad grades? And without good grades, you can’t get into a good college, and without a good college education what even is  life? What am I? A failure. Should I just accept right now that I will live an unhappy and unfulfilling life? That I’ve spent my entire childhood and adolescents fucking around when I should have been preparing to be an adult

I make too many excuses. I care about the wrong things. I’ll go no where in life. I’m already a ball of stress, why don’t I just fucking die? The way my math teachers look at me. It makes me want to give up. The way my physics teacher looks at me when I can’t figure out the math equation, it makes me want to die. I’m such a fucking disappointment. I always have been. I used to tell myself I would do amazing things, but right now, all I see is a disappointment, a wasted life. I can’t do anything amazing, and simply believing I could was such fucking dumb idea.

I’m such a worthless person.

Loving Endlessly (To An Extent)

feminism, fuck you, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Partner, Peace, Personal, Relationships

In the world, there is only one person you can truly count on – and that is yourself. While we – as human beings – do want to feel love, belonging, and predictability in the world; if you rely on someone for those things you can’t find true satisfaction and peace.

That’s why I’m looking to myself to find love, because I know it’s in me. That’s why I am accepting and loving myself for who I am right now, because the only person who will truly accept me 100% without judgement is myself.

Someone who doesn’t care enough about you, or who doesn’t see a future with you is not someone you would have lived a happy life with. Someone who uses you for affection and emotional stability is not a healthy partner, and you are better off without them. Someone who you disagree with on a constant basis is not going to make you happy in the long run, and you will be happier, healthier, and live a better life with out them in it.

If someone doesn’t love me, and we break up, then I see no loss.
If someone moves on and they didn’t want to be with me, there is no loss.
If you love someone and they do not love you back in the same way, there is no loss if they leave your life.

I’m better off alone, then with someone who doesn’t love me for everything that I am. I’ve learned this not just through breakups, but also with my father. He didn’t love me for who I was, and since he has been excluded from my life I have been happier and healthier. Toxic relationships never work out and will only drain you of the love you have. Save that love.

I love who I am, flaws and everything – because over attachment and stretch marks are me. Caring about things a little too passionately, that is me. I am embracing the fact that I overthink, that I am short, that I can be an awkward mess – because I don’t want to change anything about myself.

I do not need someone else to complete me or make me happy – I don’t need another person to fulfill my biological need of love and belonging. I love myself endlessly, and I belong to the world. I am happy this way.

Loving other people is also one of my things. I always love someone, whether it’s my dog, my sisters, or a love interest. I’m finding that it’s in my nature to love people and animals, it’s something that I as a person need to do to be happy. I care.


Humanist, Journal, Personal, Poetry

The restless nagging,
Persistent jabbing,
At what used to be my confidence.

The thoughts that infiltrate my head,
Saying they’re laughing at me –
That I shouldn’t be their friend.

As I’m walking to my classes and
Someone looks my way,
It says they’re judging me.

It’s eating away at my desire
to feel love and belonging.
Telling me to hide myself away.

Such is Life

Future, Journal, Love, Personal, Relationships, Smiling

For someone who loves writing as much as myself, I sure have a hard time writing pieces that accurately color what my life is like. Most of what I write is done through cynicism and anger, but only because those are the things I don’t want my life to be.

Muse is my outlet, it is the cleansing stream in my life that allows me to function – it’s my way of communicating with myself, of telling someone how I feel minus the confrontation.

I’m not sure I have ever come right out and said this, but everything I write on here has a motive – almost every post I intend for a particular person to read. Sometimes I send what I write to them, sometimes I’ll send them a link a few months after writing it. Sometimes I let the posts sit, I let those emotions live on through the internets vast expanse, never to be read by the person who I want to read them. Such is life.

I know who I want to read this post. I know who it is that I want to see my snapchat stories, who I want to respond to my messages and send cute selfies to me – I know very well who it is. I know too well.

Yesterday I was questioning if I still was attracted to them, after a pretty awkward encounter I was left concerned and after that I received a message which told me they weren’t ready to move on from their ex. I’ve been rather melancholy since then.

Don’t get me wrong, I sincerely want them to fully recover from their break up and get over their ex — because that’s a really shitty place to be in. I don’t want to pretend that I understand how he feels, or what has gone on in their head, because that’s impractical of me. I also don’t want to pretend like their happiness is my only reason for wanting them to get over their ex. It’s definitely not my only reason, and it’s not my motive for writing this either.

I’m afraid I have actually started having feelings for him.

Before Sunday,  I just thought he had some really nice hair and a decent jawline – but now I cannot stop myself from becoming a complete imbecile in front of him. I forget basic hand-eye coordination and how to function as a fucking person. My laugh turns into this awkward snort, and I swear I look so unattractive when I like someone. It’s instinctual for me to glance over at him – because if it wasn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t be doing it.

The timing here is absolute shit – I’m under the impression that he’s wanting to get over his ex and not have anything complicated right now, and that’s the exact opposite of what my feelings would do.  Feelings complicate everything – for as great as they are, they are equally as troublesome.

If I tell him how I feel, I’m pretty certain he would just become distressed by the knowledge. I know I would be. I shouldn’t say anything to him about this. I probably shouldn’t tell anyone. I should just stop mentioning him altogether, stop texting Staci about him, stop talking to Miro about him..

But he’s gorgeous, and funny, and almost exactly what I want in a partner – whether you asked me in kindergarten, five months ago, or today. He also reminds me of San Francisco Jacob. My feelings for him were dangerous – I lost all of my good judgment when I talked to him.

Since the current predicament means that he and I can’t get closer, I don’t want to have feelings for him at all. But I do have those feelings, and I don’t want to let them go.

The only pure thing in life is love, and I will cherish it every time it comes into my life. But just as love comes into our lives, it’s almost inevitable that it will be ripped from our tight grasp or fall apart on it’s own and just knowing that makes these feelings bittersweet.

Wondering that if I read this in the future, knowing what will happen (or what will have happened) if he will fizzle out of my mind and life in three weeks, or if I read this in 5, 6, or 7 months and we have just broken up, or if I remember the time I did something extremely stupid and sent him a link to this blog – and then I’ll sit back and wonder if he ever checked it after that. I’ll cry. Or maybe we end up having a short sexual fling and I’ll cringe thinking back on it.

And despite the possible tears, the physical pain in my chest when I think of some happy memory together, the potential break up, there’s a slim chance that we would work out. I don’t even know if he has feelings for me or if he’s just physically attracted to me , but that just emphasizes my point – because even knowing those detrimental things could happen, I want to try. I want to put myself out there and tell him how I feel.

I always come to the same conclusion when I am at this crossroad – do I tell them? Do I move on? What do I have to lose, when I could gain so much?

I always tell them how I feel.

God, I’m stupid and I will always be stupid for someone who shares my same morals and beliefs. It’s simply a bonus that he’s attractive – but it’s one I wouldn’t deny myself. He’s funny on top of it. Funny, attractive, intelligent, he’s even kind. I don’t want to pass this up, but I’m also scared that if I act on it I’ll decimate my chances of making anything work ever. I need to just wait a few days and see where life takes this.

I’m worried we won’t be compatible, though. After breaking up, I’ve been concerned that I’m just not compatible with a lot of people. What if I am too needy for him? What if I am too passionate and care too much for him? Talon thought he wanted that when we got together, and we ended up being perfectly wrong for each other.

But I would never compare Sam to Cadence, or Cadence to Talon, they have all been very different for me – none of them were similar. I can only expect that he would be different, and I sincerely hope that something will work out between us. He seems like a great person, someone I want to get to know very well.


Journal, Personal, Poetry, Relationships

I get attached too easily,
Care too hard,
Love too endlessly.

My head is too heavy,
Heart too strong,
Legs too weak to carry.

I see too much in myself.
Too much, too little, in others.

I see myself in the clouds,
In the faces of people
That I have never met.

I love those, who I have never
Spoken more than four syllables to.

I see myself, I see love, and I see pain
In the eyes of those who I care for.

They see insanity in me.