I made myself a drink for the first time since December, because, why the fuck not. Now I just feel like a middle aged woman trying to soothe over my divorce woes. 

/ / /

I have a busy day tomorrow in the least pleasing way. I’ll be up at 4:45 a.m. to begin. But I’d like to hear from you before I put a movie on and cuddle up in my bed.

I just went to dinner with my mother, and earlier I got this ridiculous headband and I really like it. Alright.

Those moments you look ahead into all the possibilities and realize your sadness is so small. Those moments you look behind and acknowledge things will never be that way again, and it’s okay. Those moments of recognition in which you accept your life could be worse, that you should quit complaining, quit worrying. Those moments you realize you should look keep looking forward, keep going forward instead of back. Those moments you realize you simply just need to let go of in order to be happy again. You cannot be happy with all the pieces of the past that you cling to.

— (by peach-moon)

I once dated a guy who complained about the marks I left on his back. “Damn you,” he’d say, “why can’t you take it easy sometimes?” I replied with “why can’t you just be a man sometimes?” I walked out and never came back. He called me a million times asking what he had done to make me so angry, left voicemail upon voicemail—when quite frankly, I was surprised he called at all. I never answered. I wasn’t angry. I just grew tired of him. I grow tired of most people who prefer the same thing all the time. People who are stuck in one particular pattern or routine and can’t shake themselves free. 

I once dated a guy who said he wished I was older. He said “that way we could have a better relationship with each other.” He meant sex. I replied with, “I wish your mind wasn’t so young, that way we could have an actual conversation and I’d at least have something to get off from.” He didn’t like that. For an instant I swore he was going to bring his hand across my face. I’d seen that look before. The only difference was that it was from my stepfather when I was a kid, and he was “man-enough” to do it. Instead, I was driven home, and never called again.

I once dated a guy who told me my wounds would heal. I had never told him anything about my past or really…anything harmful that has happened or been done to me. I like to keep intimate doings locked away where no one else can access them but me. I think I loved this guy. Well, as much as a fifteen year old could love a borderline schizophrenic who was four years my senior. I felt he could read into my soul, which was as terrifying as it was erotic in some strange way. In the years I knew him, before he was locked away, he was the one who told me to “be a lion.” It’s still the best advice I could have been given in that time frame. Unfortunately, due to my private nature, I couldn’t be attached to someone who knew so much of my past just by looking into my eyes. Eventually, I stopped answering his calls as well.

I once dated a guy who choked me a little while his tongue was down my throat. I actually enjoyed it, but when I told him so, the playful choking became more like—“die, bitch, die.” We never had sex, because, granted my outward acceptance of sexuality or something of the sort—I’m picky and kind of a tease. This drove him insane. Literally, I think. We sat in his truck after he was done mauling me and he began to get personal. He spoke of troubles with his father and I pondered those moments when I’d listen to my guy friends complain of girls they were seeing with “daddy-issues.” I laughed to myself thinking about how they would talk to me as if I didn’t have my own issues with my father. Further on, I laughed again to myself when I realized most of my male friends talk to me as if I am also a man or just some non-gendered creature. I thought it was endearing he chose to open himself up to me after we had kissed. I found it interesting that he waited until after to share himself with me. Most men would confess secrets beforehand, to “soften” a woman’s heart or some poetic man bullshit they think will work. When he dropped me off at home, he first told me to look at the moon. It was full, sizable, orange and grey clouds hugged around the sides. I didn’t see him again for six months.

I once dated a guy who told me I should lose ten pounds. “Then you would be really fucking hot,” he said. I replied with, “really? I’m not ‘hot enough’ for you as I am?” I laughed because it was funny to me that a man who was displeased with my body would still desire my tenderness. I told him it was likely he would be alone for a very long time, if not forever—if he could only see women as something edible, or something like a prize. I’m no one’s possession. No human can be a possession. No human can live up to a duty of being held as some sort of dishonest prize. For some reason I still decided I would go out with him that night. I put on my favorite red sweater and he asked me, “are you really wearing that out?” I replied with, “you know what? Get the fuck out of my house.” I guess he didn’t hear me, or didn’t think I was serious, so I yelled it a bit louder “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE.” He told me I was just another angry psychotic bitch. I said “yep!” And then smiled and waved as I shut the door.

So maybe I am always ready to say goodbye to someone. Often before we ever really even begin. Call it an animal instinct, or call it crazy—but I just know. If someone is really worth staying a part of your life, if someone is worth growing with, they won’t ever question you and you won’t ever question them. They will accept you and every goddamn inch. Every freckle, ligament, eyelash, whatever—they may not like every detail or thought that you actually choose to vocalize, but they will love you anyway. They may not like the clothes you choose to wear one day, but they won’t ask you to change. They want you to say the things they don’t want to hear because it’s a part of you and your beautiful mind. When you have found someone who is worthy of your time and energy, hold onto them. Answer their calls. Accept them. Praise them. And I assure you, if they are truly worthy, they will always do the same for you. No favor will go unreturned. No fragment of love will go unfelt.

ENIGMA (by peach-moon)

I miss my camera, this is still the most reflective self-portrait I’ve ever taken. July 2010.

“COLOR MY LIFE LIFE THE CHAOS OF TROUBLE” *~*~

(by peach-moon)

Week 14, disposable camera taken through a car window, sooc.

I went outside to paint but it was so hot and uncomfortable so I came in and decided to introduce you guys to my new typewriter! It’s not the prettiest thing, but I love it thus far. Also, please note I’m a huge fan of letters - if you’d like to exchange them, message me! : )

GPOY - My bangs have gotten all side-swipy and I like it, and also today is so pretty I wish I had friends to frolic outside with edition. 

We’re tying roadmaps into knots because we don’t want to know where we’re going, we just want to go. Tossing coins into parking meters while we stretch our bodies and walk to the doors of some old diner with paint chips peeling off the sides. We’re young and we’re wild and we’re free. Not much money in our pockets and we couldn’t care less. We nap with our knees at our chest in speeding cars and the windows down. The radio is playing the soundtrack to the rest of our summer. We’ll wake and watch the stars fill the sky and we’ll try to name the constellations in our heads. The destination never mattered as much as the voyage did. But we we young. We were wild. We were free. Since then, our bodies have gotten older and our hearts have gotten somewhat weaker or stronger, can’t really tell the difference anymore. Our souls have gotten a bit colder, bitter. And one night, you’ll sit-up in bed, and you think ‘god damn, if I ever find friends like that again, I hope, I hope, I’ll have learned to better appreciate moments more while I’m in them, instead of looking back, and just then realizing how fortunate life can be.’ 

I don’t have anything to say for myself.

(by peach-moon)

I’m tired and trying to prepare myself for another restless night. You should listen to this song/watch the video. I hope you’re all well, don’t forget that you can say ‘hi,’ I don’t bite.