dy·nam·ic

Journal, Love, Partner, Personal, Relationships, sex

After my last post, as the world works, Travis told me he loved me. I said it back, and I have no regrets about that. I’m learning what a functional relationship looks like, and it’s not the same as the mystical love I had envisioned. It is wholesome, satisfying, and natural- but I wouldn’t say that it is the same thing I have felt in the past.

I think that what I used to believe was love is just an ideal, an image of love that isn’t real.

I have a lot on my mind, and I’m beginning to be mad at myself for being obsessed with Leo for as long as I was. I allowed for my feelings to cloud everything in my life and honestly, he is trash and he treated me like trash.

Right now I am alone, Maeva went to L.A. for the week and so I have the room all to myself. I don’t like being alone. I am sad. I would be less sad if I had got to see Travis, but I didn’t. I wish I had normal friends up here. None of the Chance bullshit I have dealt with. Tbh Sheldon is the most normal and even he is creepy/weird. Where are all the normal people at?

I was scrolling on Instagram and happen to see that Leo followed Vanessa? I know he already was. So he was probably lurking or some shit. I think about all those little moments he and I shared together and I really don’t think they meant anything at all. Not in the grand scheme of things. They did to me, in my head, at the moment, and when I was holding him. But he was always a two-faced guy, wasn’t he? I don’t think I ever trusted him.

He could never get himself to commit to anyone, and honestly, that is the least attractive quality in a person.

He leads people on.

I fell in love with a prick who got off on leading people on. It’s as simple as that.

I did so much for that prick. He always disappointed me, and from hundreds of miles away he is doing it still. Talking to my sister, following Vanessa- I was blinded by my idealized version of love. I was willing to overlook everything for him, and why?

I didn’t mind when he laughed obnoxiously, I didn’t get embarrassed when people knew I was with him in public even though they were talking shit on him, I didn’t get embarrassed when Jacob called him a tweaker, or when my mom met him, or when literally all of our coworkers saw us go to a movie together.

I honestly wanted to move back to Atascadero, I thought that I would be satisfied with being his wife and being there for him, but the reality is that he is a slimy character. He, I’m fairly certain, hits on my sister. I watched him flirt with Vanessa time and time again, and it fucking murdered me. I remember watching him flirt with Shelby and I actually had a mental breakdown on the clock in the bathroom because the guy I loved was out in the hallway flirting with her.

It’s all so dysfunctional.

Love isn’t dysfunctional like that.

What I have with Travis, and maybe one day I will eat my words, but I think it is long-term material. I think what we have is going to last. Our dynamic is friendship first, the sex is pretty damn good, and it’s more intimate than the sex I’ve had before. I’ve met his family, some of his friends, we have gone to parties together, we have gone on dates, in every environment our dynamic stays the same way.

Also, Riley likes him. First boyfriend ever that I can say that about.

I’m not embarrassed to be seen with him, in fact, I will proudly stand by him and say he’s my boyfriend. He’s everything I want in a guy.

The first time I seriously thought I might love him, we were sitting at a diner and I was staring at him across the table, and he made a joke. I remember thinking that I wanted to be doing that when I am old and when most other people are grumpy and aching- I want to be sitting across the table from Travis and making jokes with each other and laughing our asses off in public.

I feel like my relationship with his mom is strained and it’s frustrating for me, I’m not sure how serious it is or if shes just not a super friendly woman. I try so hard to get them to like me and I’m not sure it’s worked.

Maybe she isn’t sure how much she wants to adopt me into the family dynamic just yet.

Whatever it is, there is something, and I am sensitive to it.

I just have to work on not becoming insecure about that feeling I get when she makes comments.

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in·stan·ta·ne·ous

Journal, Love, Partner, Personal, Relationships

I still think about you every day. When it gets really quiet and my mind is still, I can hear you singing. Your eyes are the clearest image in my head. I no longer care to know how you really feel about me, I can only ever really know how I feel about you. I know that I will never love another person the way that I loved you. I never expect to. I thought I knew what it was like to care about a person before I knew you, and now that I have experienced what it’s like, I feel bad for every guy that has to come into my life after you.

I haven’t gotten the nerve to tell Travis that I love him because I know what it felt like to love you, and I never even told you to your face. An entire year and I never had the balls to tell you to your face.

Every time I think, you know maybe I love Travis, I remember what it felt like to just be laying in bed at night filled with pure bliss simply knowing you exist. I think about how flustered I would get when you would walk into a room. I couldn’t collect my thoughts, I couldn’t string a sentence together. I remember how satisfied I felt just spending five minutes with you outside of work. How happy you made me feel without having to do anything.

I can’t say it when I think about you.

We don’t talk much anymore, and that’s okay. It’s probably good.

I do love you, though. I haven’t been able to forget it.

I care about Travis. I just don’t care about him in the same way that I cared about you, and I know that every time I love someone, I love them in a different way than the person before.

Though I can’t say what I feel for him is love, at least not yet.
But when you introduced yourself to me I knew instantly.

Every time is different. I guess.

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.

des·per·a·tion

Jealousy, Journal, Love, no trust, Partner, Personal

Taking a short trip through my camera roll, I recognized a pattern in my association with the photos. I took that one when I liked so-and-so. I took this one when I was dating that guy. I was rejected by this person on this day. And suddenly I remembered why I took a social media hiatus. It fueled a dysfunctional part of myself, it fueled my insecurity of how others perceive me.

I felt it again just looking at the pictures I used to post.

I was desperate. I needed validation. I needed acceptance.

It still makes me really uncomfortable thinking about if I fell back into that pattern. Relying on a guy, being left, and suddenly in a crisis.

That wasn’t me for a year. A whole year. And knowing that it’s possible for Travis and I to break up at any point (hello, I have had unforeseen breakups before), I worry what kind of spiral I could go into, if any.

I always respond to him fast, and I do it because I care about him. I do it because I find him exciting. Because talking to him brings me joy. But it also gives me that sense of acceptance I crave when he talks to me, and perhaps I am just like a guinea pig triggering it’s happy spots in its brain until it dies.

I’m afraid that my affection will drive him away because I have associated myself being attached to someone as the cause for them leaving me.

I’m over here feeling all of these things and I’m scared to form a real connection with Travis because I’m scared that in doing so, he will realize that I was too easy or something. He’ll think I’m not good enough for him. Subpar. Lower class. How many ways can I say inferior?

I thought that I had made so much progress in myself since my big mental breakdown of 2016-

but I still worry that Travis will cheat on me. I still worry that he is only complimenting me because he wants sex. I have this crippling fear inside of me that I am a social outcast because there is something seriously wrong with me.

I try to act like I have accepted it, but it’s rooted inside my heart. It’s an ugly disease in my blood.

I’m so fucking insecure.

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.

dis·so·nance (4-1-2018)

Awareness, fathers, fuck you, Future, home, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, no trust, Partner, Personal, Relationships

Have you ever done something and not really understood why you did it? As your hand approaches your mouth with the pills weighing in your palm, and that voice inside your head is saying don’t, yet they make it into your mouth and you swallow anyway.

When you’re standing outside at four a.m. and heavily intoxicated because you have succumbed to your desire to fit in and an Uber costs $30, so you walk across town to get home while your sister is busy fucking the guy where you had been sleeping not even thirty minutes before. Before you walk home, you kick his car. A lot. and dig out your keys, leaving grooves because you’re angry that no one loves you.

The guy you have loved for the last seven months would rather lead you on and never commit because he wants to be able to fuck anyone he wants. But you love him and have lowered your standards so much that even if he has sex with someone else you would still cover up his mistakes. The line is drawn at emotional attachment now.

You run home, and when you would normally feel pain in your lungs, this time you’re so numb you cannot feel it. You slowly approach the porch, quietly walking now so as to not wake your landlord.

In your bathroom, five a.m. and there is a knife sitting to your right on the floor. Why doesn’t anybody care about you? You pick it up.

Your mom’s response to your university acceptance was “fuck you”. Your dad hasn’t talked to you in months. Your sister, who you depend on, you woke up to her making out with a guy in the same bed as you.

You’re sitting on the bathroom floor of a place you pay for with money you made from sweeping popcorn up in theaters and cleaning shit up in public bathrooms. You put the knife down, you have worked too hard to end here. You have worked too hard to give up because your family doesn’t love you.

University is on the horizon; your future, beginnings, everything you have ever looked forward to. It is coming. You know you’ll be broke, but you’ve been emotionally broken for years – and being financially broke is nothing when you have your freedom.

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…

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.

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.