Moving On

beautiful, Beauty, Journal, Love, Partner, Personal, Relationships

Today I woke up with the intent to make things easier on myself. I called out from work because I’m not sleeping well (as in I’m not really getting more than an hour of sleep at a time) plus I’m throwing up still even though I’ve eaten exactly one protein bar in the last seventy-two hours. So I’m literally throwing up water and stomach acid at this point.

I deleted his number, our texts, I removed him on Snapchat and Instagram, I deleted all of the pictures of him and the things we did together. Then I gathered the plants we got together, the hoodie I borrowed from him, the weed and lighters we stole together, and the socks he gave me for my birthday, and I set them aside in one spot so at least it’s consolidated. I don’t know what I’ll do with all of it just yet. I just know that it needs to be in one spot together for a bit.

It hurts, but I don’t need to make myself feel this pain for longer than I have to. I don’t want to live in a delusion thinking we would get back together, because at this point even if he wanted to, it’s ruined. The memories we have together are good memories, but our relationship wasn’t as healthy as I liked to think. We didn’t communicate well. I never warmed up to his family, which felt unnatural. The time we spent together felt stressful toward the end, and I can’t forget the biggest one – he’s seventeen. And in high school.

I don’t need to think about him anymore. I learned a lot about myself and how giving I can be, I learned that given the right person I can be willing to do anything for a relationship. I also learned to trust my instincts, because I wrote numerous times about how I felt like we were going to break up. I knew. I just wanted us to grow old together and be a happy old couple.

I’ll be happy and married to someone happy when I am old, and it won’t be to T, but it will be to someone who gives me the love, affection, attention and thought that I didn’t feel I got enough of from T. He forgot everything, things that mattered to me- and it hurt. He was selfish in our relationship and rarely put me first. I know that I did a lot in the time we weren’t together trying to make sure we could spend quality, uninterrupted time together. I know he didn’t do the same thing.

I never needed him. I do feel like he was an asset to my life, but I never needed him.

I think I deserve someone who treats me better than he did. I think I deserve someone who is actually willing to put effort into a relationship and not just take what they get pleasure from.

Our relationship was dead a long time ago. It definitely could have been fixed, but it died because he didn’t nurture it with me and handled our issues immaturely.

I am drained. but I deserve more.

I will say that for having been single for so long, nearly two years, I know what makes me happy when I am by myself. I don’t need to go on dates or have sex all the time, I don’t need to be hugged by a lover – I need my family, I need my friends, and I need to live a quality life that brings me joy.

He stressed me out more than he made me happy. The first few weeks were all good, but our dynamic changed after that and he wasn’t the same in our relationship.

I am peaceful, I am kind, I deserve to give myself the same love I give a partner. I deserve to write myself love letters and spend quality time with myself. I deserve to feel loved and pampered when I am alone.

He is not my issue anymore. no communication. strained conversations. always distant. arrogance. addiction. 

I was willing to stand by him and his decisions, I was willing to be supportive and listen, but he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want it. He is not my issue anymore. I am capable of living a happy life without him or any other guy. I have people who love and support me.

It’s important to acknowledge that I have lost something here, but someone else will eventually replace him. Someone always does.

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con·scious

Awareness, beautiful, equality, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, New, Peace, Personal, Relationships, Small Things

If I die understanding how to respect life, I will have lived a spectacular existence.

Every day I have the opportunity to directly impact hundreds of people at work. I have the opportunity to communicate and observe them.

It’s disheartening to see old people who are unhappy. I can’t help but feel like they missed out on some life lesson along the way, the one that teaches us how to cherish and value every moment we live.

That the most important moment in our lives is the one we are in right now, because if we do not value what could be perceived as the monotonous and wasted seconds during commutes or while we eat breakfast or while we work our nine to five jobs, we will never truly cherish and value the supposed “special” moments in life.

Rather, we will end up feeling empty, sad, and left wondering why we feel so meaningless during those special moments. You can’t just hit a button and all of a sudden value life.

That same philosophy goes for our treatment of people. If you go about your day being angry with strangers you encounter, how can you truly value and respect your friends and family?

Depending on how one places value on people, the way they treat others changes.

Some people would treat me the same when I have my apron on as when I am wearing my nicest pair of clothes. Others, however, will ignore my hello’s and questions – blatantly walking past me, glancing at my face, and not responding to me when I have on the apron.

True respect for others cannot be turned off and on- you have either learned it or fake the niceties to get by in society.

I believe that respecting the moment and respecting the working class goes hand in hand. If someone goes their entire life cherry picking the moments that they will feel happy and only being kind to the most beautiful and the richest, think about all of the moments they will miss out on? All of the quality people that they have disregarded? There is so much substance in those things, to ignore it is a cry for help- you are unhappy with yourself.

It doesn’t matter if it is four in the morning, while you are on the bus, waiting in line for your coffee, or trying to fall asleep in bed at night.

I try to rush my life to get to those golden moments, where I am holding my boyfriend or enjoying a meal, the ones where I am at weddings or Christmas eve drinking cocoa- but there are 525600 minutes every year and 7.53 billion people in the world. I want to value every last one of both of those things.

In order to respect oneself and the life that they live, they have to respect the people around them and the environment that they live in, in order to do that we must value every second that we spend and every interaction that we have.

We cannot be perfect, it is not in our DNA- however, we can make a conscious effort to be better and strive every day for improvement.

Quick Thoughts

beautiful, Journal, Love, Personal

These last few days for me have been rough, to say the least. I couldn’t eat, sleep, or think without feeling intense dread. I had no appetite, I would lay down at night and do nothing but cry. During the day I would wake up to my alarm but fall back asleep – not getting out of bed until 4pm. I skipped school three out of the five days last week – I thought I was sick, but the doctor said I only had a mild sinus infection.

I felt miserable, was throwing up even when I had not eaten – because I had only eaten half a pancake and a partial bowl of soup for five days.

However, it dawned on me just now as I was working in concessions that I only feel this way because I am trying to change how I feel. I felt every branch of sadness – guilty, abandoned, deep despair, depression, loneliness, boredom. Sometimes critical of myself – other times I was helpless, insecure, and anxious. I felt insignificant. I was working against myself, wanting to feel important and aware – content and nurturing. But I simply could not because it wasn’t where I was at yet.

I realized that in order to come to terms with the situations I’m dealing with, I first have to accept that right now I am sad – afraid even. I will feel powerful again soon, but right now, perhaps for a while, I am going to be sad.

Feeling grief, a sense of loss. I accept that. I accept that right now I am vulnerable and sensitive. We have these emotions for a reason, and I won’t try to push them away just because they make me uncomfortable. They are healthy to feel in moderation.

I won’t always wake up feeling useless, restless, and frustrated.
I won’t always feel alone.

These things will pass, but I cannot force them out before I accept why I feel them.

I can’t stop myself from having the emotions that I do, I can’t force myself to stop having feelings for someone (even though I may try) – I have them for a reason. I like who he is as a person, as a friend, for all of the little quirks that make him different than everyone else in my life.

I cannot change circumstances, I cannot change myself, I cannot change the past.

This is good. Life is good, on some basic level. I will thrive where ever I end up, I just have to give the world some time to sort itself out.

Moral Dilemma

beautiful, Beauty, Creative Writing, Future, Humanist, Journal, Nature, New, Personal, Poetry

It feels as though the world is lapping at me,
Eating away at my heels as I try to make my way.

Like a rock on at the edge of the ocean,
Never getting a break from the endless torture
That is the ocean’s softly beating wave.

Back is sore, feet bleeding, hands callused
I’ve held on this far, but I was never promised an end.

Not a moment goes by as I brace to the cliff
that letting go isn’t considered,
but if I do, the cliff will fall,
Cascading into the ocean.

Atop this cliff, a child sits, their fate is my decision.
I can hold on, turn into to stone
As the water relentlessly beats me with its salty hand
Or I can let go, and let the ocean guide us into the world
of eternal night.

Reminiscing

beautiful, Creative Writing, Family, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Perfect, Small Things, Smiling

It’s 1:30am, I have about 5 hours and 10 minutes before I need to be up, but I can’t fall asleep. So, I’m up. And I’m writing. Because I have been trying to go to sleep since 9pm.

All I can seem to think about are my old memories. Very distinct and exact memories.

I can remember where everything went in my last house – the house where we lived as a family last.

I can still here the way the different doors creaked – I can hear the kitchen door that led out to our Asian patio. The way my mom’s desk looked, the stain on the carpet in the hallway just outside my room. The way the carpet came up just enough to see the green tile in my closet. The way the laundry hamper smelled in the hall. How we organized our freezer and pantry. Potatoes on the bottom shelf, onions too, both in wicker baskets. Those rice and blueberry treats mom would get from Costco. The guest house. How it always seemed to smell of barbecue chicken. The closet, weird coats, how we would go out there just to watch tv. The old cigar box in the guest house garage. The tire swing by the horse pasture, the orange grove, the brick wall, the nut trees by dad’s shop. How the orange trees smelled in the summer, the way snails would gather near the sprinkles, our pool. The second story of dad’s shop, how you could hear rain hitting the tin roof. The old war maps dad hung in his office out there. His big metal work table. The way the old blacktop road would burn my feet, mom’s white porch swing, our pomegranate tree. The lemon tree, the tree house we built with Callie. Mom’s garden. The basil plants. our compost pile. The brick fireplace inside, the big solid wood mantle above it. Dad’s bear hanging in the dining room, my pine piano. Mom’s brown rug. My music rack. The little patio outside the door off our breakfast nook. The lights suspended in there. Tig. The kittens. Our playhouse, and the summer we spent at the house before we moved in, sesame ring pretzels. Too much Febreeze. Mom’s clothes line. When dad worked in Vegas and mom made that bon bon ice cream that the whole block loved. Mom’s fourth of July parties. The vegetable stew she would made during thunderstorms. How we could see the beautiful mountains outside our kitchen window. When mom would wake us up by singing. Getting ready for youth group, that shimmery purple eye shadow I loved. The ivy wallpaper we had in our bathroom, the stone walk-in shower that’s light didn’t work so it was always dark. All the goddamn storage space in there. Our craft closet. Mom’s closet, which was always organized. The little garden outside mom’s bedroom, the wall of windows that were in front of her bed. Her beautiful bathroom, the high windows, tall ceilings, wood and stone everywhere. Our beautiful, expensive, World Market table. The wall of windows in our dining room. How mom would let us make an pillow fort out of the living room during the summer when Lacey and Katie would stay with us. That Thanksgiving when Uncle Winky brought his Brazilian friend, who was probably his boyfriend and we were all just oblivious to how gay he was. Sage and Sonia. Spending summers with the Deitz, their treehouse. Going over there to hang out with Jacob and Nate before any of us were out of the 8th grade. The year Jacob started high school, when he started driving, when he went off to college. When Carson started dating that dude with the weird name – playing in the orange groves outside their house, the palm fans. The mule. Callie’s horses. Going with her to mediation in the hummer, taking her to her dad’s house. Going to see movie’s with her and Melissa, always having diet Dr. Pepper and tootsie rolls. When Melissa would decorate for christmas, and their entire house transformed into a winter wonderland. Ms. Terri’s 15 foot christmas tree, staying out until 1am to help get ready for VBS at Foothill. The red berries. When Mrs. Hengst took her Sunday school class to see Mega Mind and I felt super left out.

Oh my god. Carson and Hayley are both married. Jacob and Nate both have girlfriends and are going to graduate college soon. Callie is a Sophomore. Riley and Katie are in college. Lacey is graduating this year. Sonni is at COS. What the hell happened to my childhood? I will never spend another summer at the Deitz cabin. I will never climb frog rock again or go to Dudley Ranch. I’ll never go hunting with my dad again. I’ll never go inside the 38o house…. I’ll probably never see the Sisto’s, or step inside Foothill.. Who knows if I will even see Delaney or Owen.. But I’ll never spend a halloween at their house, or go into  their treehouse with those weird little brown berries that fell off their tree, or see their clawfoot bathtub filled with plants that DD put outside her bedroom window, or watch Owen obsess over Cars or Nate over spongebob or Jacob playing Call of Duty on their family computer… I will never sit on the Deitz porch swing and hold kittens again, or see Boomer.. I miss their pebble walkway and watching everyone play volleyball on summer afternoons while Melissa obsessively cleaned her house.

I’ve only been writing for twenty minutes, but I just took a long journey back into my childhood.. I can’t believe where I am today, when I used to lay awake at night and think about my future. I never imagined my parents would divorce, and moving to the coast was always a desire but seemed far fetched. Going to a public high school? Unheard of. I’ve had three boyfriends? ALLYSA! Y0u were supposed to marry Jacob, Nate, or Caleb – preferably Max. C’mon! You were going to get married in Gramp’s church, with that nasty blue carpet and wooden pews and green cushions, the weird cross with backlights. But too much for that, because it has all been torn out and redone. Now it’s The Road. Those little lights that used to line the stage are even gone. The smell is gone too..  And you have been in every room in that church now, all the mystery is gone. The fear is gone. Now it’s just a musty old building, and the imagery of Burt is dead. You had your thirteenth birthday party there, it was really fun. You worked there, too. When you were 15. You watched your little cousins roam those halls, now. Oh yeah – Uncle Juano got married and has three kids. Uncle Wink has two. Aunt Ne has Ribbon now, and you lived with her as well. You miss that. You also lived with Nana and Gramps, your room was the one with the weird, old closet that always scared you. The one that used to be Gramp’s office with the bottles filled with sand and coins. Also, I don’t really have to tell you this because you kind of already know, but you don’t believe in God at all. But you already have your doubts.

So much has changed for me… I kind of just want to go to Katie’s trailor and just sleep among the musty old smell and bad internet. I want to wake up to the neighbor’s rooster crowing and the hill we all know is Goliath’s grave…

My Perfect Partner: Revised

Atheism, beautiful, Beauty, equality, Family, feminism, Future, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, New, Partner, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Relationships, science, Small Things, Smiling

About five months ago, on august 1st of 2016, I wrote a post about my perfect partner. While most of it is still true, I wanted to revise it. After going through my last relationship, some updating needed to happen.

My perfect partner would be taller than me, pretty fit or small, kiss really well. Someone who is sexual, and understand the appeal of large cities. Someone who would be down for adventure at any hour. They would remind me of what I love when I am sad. Preferably would have brown or dark hair, would wear leather shoes (probably oxfords or sandals). High libido. They would play chess, read for leisure, cook occasionally. Someone who would appreciate music with foreign lyrics and instrumental pieces. They would have the desire to see the world, to go places. Someone who loves foggy weather, as well as the rainy days. They would share my nerdy side, loving Lord of the Rings, Sherlock, The X-files, or whatever I’m interested in then as much as me. We would share the same taste in music and humor, I mean, a relationship with puns would have to be a good one. They kind of need to love sushi, because it’s literally my favorite. They would be an open-minded person who looks at (and doesn’t ignore) facts, someone who uses reasoning and skepticism to come to conclusions. A critical thinker, an intelligent being. Their occupation would be in a field of science or art, they would be a logical person with soft emotions. They would be passionate and caring, interesting but not a douche, kind but not in a delusional way. Ethically, I would see in them what I aspire to be. They would aspire to know everything they could, never stop learning. Someone who wants to make a change in the world, who is as crazy as I am in thinking that we could actually make a difference – but they don’t let that stop them.

Someone who would understand that I have my many emotional issues, and they wouldn’t guilt me for having them. They would understand that sometimes I need to be loved. Someone who wouldn’t mind my spam texting them, or that I over analyze the simplest of things. They wouldn’t mind that I can overreact to things, because let’s face it, I can make a lot of issues for myself. They would understand that I have a difficult time loving people, that I have a difficult time trusting someone after that trust has been broken. They would understand that I am a person who fluctuates in everything: emotions, weight, ideas. I’m constantly changing and don’t like settling.

Most importantly, we would want to make a relationship together work. We would make the other feel at peace, and loved. There will be no “if we’re still together then”, there would be trust and mutual satisfaction. There wouldn’t be that looming sense that one day we would break up.

I feel the intense desire to be in a long term relationship with someone like this. Surprisingly, nothing drastic has changed in the last five months, but a lot of little things were not the same anymore.

And of course, we would have to love each other.

Things That Make Me Happy

beautiful, Beauty, Future, Her, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Memories, Nature, New, Peace, Personal, Small Things, Smiling

Waking up well rested before 10am
Listening to a song that gives me chills
Seeing a good piece of art
Plants
Dogs that are excited to see me
When my nail polish dries smooth
When the teacher says there’s no homework
Making inside jokes with old friends
Painting with watercolors
When I’ve mastered a song on the piano
The sound of a creek on a warm day
Making forts in orange groves with my friends
Knowing I have no where to be and nothing to do the next day
When I look in the mirror and think I’m beautiful in the morning
Baking
A really good kiss
Hugging for long periods of time
Writing letters to friends
The first cup of coffee in the morning
When it rains, and the smell of dirt roads afterward
Navel Oranges
Cats, when they hold onto your finger and nip at it
The way candle flames dance in the wind
Lemonade during summer
A cold pool
The satisfaction of finishing a book
When I think about everything I have accomplished
New journals
When I’m first falling in love, being obsessed with knowing every detail about the person
Seeing kids play together, making up stories
Doing something outrageously adventurous
Doing what feels right, supporting what feels right
Getting and giving gifts
Christmas – the food, the weather, the friends and family
Sitting by warm fires with my dog, feeling the heat lick at my skin
Camping with my family
Taking hikes in the mountains and seeing new things
Standing in front of the ocean and feeling the breeze catch my hair
When I’m alone and the song I’m making up flows perfectly
Getting out of the shower and all my makeup came off
Fantasizing about traveling the world
When inspiration hits and I do ten projects in one day
When my room is clean and organized
Seeing old happy couples doing simple things together
Watching babies laugh
Fridays
When I feel how much someone cares about me
Learning something interesting
Getting good grades
A good cup of tea
Christmas music
Looking at nature
Loving people
Watching people in big cities go through their day
Looking put together
Organizing messy places
Cleaning something that was really dirty
When I can take care of myself
Seeing happy families
Watching dads spend time with their kids
When someone lets you into their life
Caramels
Outfits that remind me  of why I get dressed in the morning
New jars of peanut butter that’s smooth at the top
Smiling so wide my cheeks hurt, laughing so hard that my ribs ache
Watching people do what they’re passionate about
Making playlists
Wrapping myself in warm fuzzy blankets on cold days
Doing what scares me, what makes me uncomfortable
Being so passionate, loving something so deeply that it never fades
Dark chocolate with sea salt
Attractive people
New bras
When someone understands me
When someone is genuine

Poetry

beautiful, Beauty, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Memories, Nature, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Poetry, school, Small Things, Smiling

Sweet voices, little voices

they wander in the garden.

Saying words that mean so little –

Saying words that mean so much.

Their words traverse through the garden,

they wander aimlessly.

The little voices have little feet

that will carry their bodies far.

I left

Babies, beautiful, bisexual, Family, forgotten, Future, Hope, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Personal, school, Uncategorized

I write I move, I lose people I love, and the world goes on.

I finally made the decision to move to my mom’s, and it took me two years to finally come to terms with that. I knew it was what I needed to do, that all roads led here. It took that time to realize it would be the best, that it would make me happy.

I’ve had to juggle houses for so long, it doesn’t feel right staying in one place. I had to say goodbye to places and people. I’ve said goodbye to a lot of stuff, but the valley has been the hardest for me.

My last meeting, the last time I saw my Education Coordinator. He gave me a book, he told me about how he watched my growth in school. He handed me a folder of some of my most notable high school work. I cried.

I went to the parking lot, wishing I could pause time and say goodbye to every last thing there. Every place I had a special moment. Wishing I could give eternal hugs to every person I had come to know there. I cried.

My mom drove me out to my hometown, a little country town that’s mostly orange trees and cow pastures. We drove past my first house, and my second, third, and fourth. We passed people we once knew, but don’t anymore. Passed my first love’s house, he was out on his porch. Didn’t recognize us. We cried.

We kept driving, stopping in the town where I had been living these last three years. We stopped by my grandparent’s. Then to this Mexican food establishment, I got some of my favorite tacos in all of the valley. Walked by the place Cadence works, by the place Megan’s mom works. By the old residence of a woman, I knew who had to give it up because her cancer got too bad. I walked the streets of a town I had always known, to get in a car and drive to a city where I only knew my mom’s condo and a single barista at Starbucks. I got in that car and I cried.

During that long car ride, I didn’t think about ex-boyfriends or how I am plagued with PTSD. I didn’t think about how much I hated how my grandparents treated me, or that I hadn’t come out to my mom yet.

I thought about how I was leaving behind the only place I had ever lived or grown to love.

I was leaving behind my small town, one that I was so sure would be where I lived for years to come when I had been young. I imagined having a family and working there, I imagined where I would get married there, who I would invite…

But just like how I left Elderwood, and those people forgot me, I left Visalia. Pretty soon, everyone I was close to, they will move on. We will remember things fondly, but they won’t be important anymore.

Now my friends are all hours away from me. Most of my family, too. I sleep on a sofa in a tiny condo and I sit alone and watch tv. I’m really lonely, I’m really frustrated, and I don’t feel loved like I had expected.

In a year and a half, I’ll be an adult. In two years I’ll be off to college. In six to eight I’ll probably be graduating. From there, I’ll live my life. I’ll get a job, make friends, maybe even have a family. There will be holidays and deaths, births and marriages.. But I will never forget the day I left my childhood behind.