to start over.

“no person wants to start over with a new person. telling secrets, giving their body away. falling all over again. its too much..”

via @changes on twitter

This twitter post literally came the very day I needed it. Coincidence? I really don’t know.

But do you know what it’s like?

Let’s go back. If you’re interested in a little history step inside the rollercoaster ride.

Eighth grade. I like this guy in my class. And this is the first time I’ve liked someone for their personality, and not just solely on looks. He was funny, we had banter, and he said cute things sometimes, I guess. He did things my little middle school heart never experienced before… like he hugged me. Yep. Hugged me. Many other things happened and I had a little hope that he liked me. But he didn’t.

And so when it was time for us to go our separate ways into high school, I found myself missing him. Long story, short (because this story was on my blog before “Over”) I tried to get over him and it took two years. He was completely toxic for my heart. I always thought he was genuine and missed me too, but no.

One of my best friends told me that I would meet someone better, someone who deserved my heart… then “Phoenix” showed up. And I thought maybe this is my second chance.

Remember Phoenix? The guy I thought was perfect for my heart? The guy I thought would never hurt me? I thought he would be someone worth falling for.

So I fell.

It’s been months. Maybe even close to a year?

And honestly, when I fell I didn’t expect to be this close to him. To have his number, to have his snapchat, to have hung out with him. None of that was expected when I started to fall. But it happened. And it made the falling even worse.

But the falling was okay. Because Phoenix seemed sooooo much better than my eighth-grade crush, let’s call him “Over.”

So I started over with Phoenix. I fell. Again. But it was okay because he was genuine and sweet and honest and real. Right?

Phoenix did things that no guy has ever done. He asked me if I had depression, he sensed that himself, and then he figured out that I had anxiety and he asked me about it. And he told me that he would be there to talk if I ever needed it. He suspected something was wrong and something happened in my life just because of a “weird-sounding” text. And we texted each other in paragraphs and he never seemed to mind.

But then, things changed.

And he just turned out to be like the 7.0 version of Over. But it was deeper this time. It was much deeper.

I told Phoenix things I haven’t even told my best friend. I told him my fears, my secrets, I gave him a piece of myself. I got to know him, or at least who he wanted to seem like in front of me. I built a relationship with him. And for what?

For it to just go to waste?

We’re not on good terms right now. This isn’t like some petty fight… this might be the end of the Phoenix chapter. And honestly? I thought it would last way longer. But he turned out to be just as dishonest as Over.

Both of them were just full of talk and their actions came from their ego instead of their heart.

So here I am. After falling deeper for the second time.

I thought I would be in a better place. I thought it would be worth it. I thought it would at least feel better than this.

But falling for the second time is, even more, worse than the first time.

Ater the first time, I was cautious. I didn’t want to let my heart out of its chains again. But when a guy does the sweet things that Phoenix did you get vulnerable and you trust. And you fall before you can stop yourself.

I never really believed my best friend when she said I would find a guy who would treat me so much better. It didn’t really feel like that would actually happen because it’s me and my life. But then he came in and gave me a little hope that genuine guys existed and there might be a chance I could get over “Over.”

He gave me hope after my first fall.

But the second fall, like I said, didn’t turn out great. Not at the beginning, not in the middle, not in the end.

Even though there were great things that happened during this fall… something was there to always make me feel like crap: another girl, he hurt me unintentionally or intentionally, my anxiety, etc.

And you know? I tried so hard to push the crappy parts down because I thought I would never meet another guy like him. A guy who would care so much about me and about my past and my future. A guy who wanted to see the stars with me, wanted to see a play together, wanted to go far away someday to escape it all, didn’t believe in promises like me, and hated fake people just as much as me. He seemed… right? He told me instead of a party he would want to see a sunset and I’m like wow, the perfect person for a girl with anxiety.

It all just seemed so perfect. I guess that’s what was wrong. The perception of it was deceitful.

But the way I got to know him was different than the way I got to know anyone else. We opened up to each other. We took small steps. We shared.

How do you let something like that go?

And how can you possibly think of moving on and thinking you deserve someone better when that was it… when that was the better? Or at least it felt like it.

Did I waste all those months, all that time, falling for him? Is it all just a waste now? Now that I know I meant nothing to him. And it was all nothing.

I don’t even know if I can get up after this second fall. I don’t think I can picture myself giving so much of myself to another person… hoping that they’re the right one for my heart.

I can’t do it again. I can’t.

It was hard enough this time.

Now, a piece of me is with him and he’s just breaking that piece apart.

How can I open up myself to another person? Open up my heart? The thought of falling for a third time and getting heartbroken for a third time? I don’t want to think of that. It really exhausts me thinking like that. I don’t even know if I’ll even be able to…

How do people like this get so consumed with playing the game that they don’t even realize they’re playing with feelings and emotions? Doesn’t that ever cross their minds?

How can I start over?

After going through so much, after listening to my heart, how can I possibly start over?


the purple button-up and the red varsity jacket.

The purple button-up.

He wore it.

The guy who was in my 8th-grade class who I used to like.

He was wearing a purple button-up during the baccalaureate service for our 8th-grade graduation.

The purple button-up was how I told my friends that I liked him.

I asked them if they liked purple or white.

They answered purple.

And I said me too.

From that moment one, whenever I saw him wear that shirt I thought of that moment.

How I was unafraid to admit that I liked him.

I finally wanted to tell my friends about him.

But that’s when things started to plummet.

Then comes the red varsity jacket.

Phoenix wears it, the guy I like.

My favorite color, and it’s not the dark shades of red which don’t really appeal to me. It’s the one shade of red that my eyes are in love with.

He looks good it in.

But he was wearing it the day he broke my heart.

The day I found out he was still friends with his ex-girlfriend. But at the time I didn’t know they were friends. This was the day I thought they got back together.

The day my hope for him became hopeless.

He wore that dumb red varsity jacket.

We had Spanish class that day and that was the first time in that class where we talked throughout the whole 90 minutes. He never completely turned around facing away from me that day (he sat in front of me).

Now, whenever he wears that red varsity jacket I think he’s just going to cause me pain.

The last time he wore it, he was walking towards me after dropping his ex-girlfriend/best friend off at her class.

Can someone please tell me,

why these two guys have to ruin my favorite colors for me?




I’m a puzzle without a piece.

I’m a kid without her teddy bear.

I’m an athlete without a water bottle.

I’m a musician without the inspiration.

I’m a writer without the words.

I’m a beach without the sand.

I’m a teacher without the lesson.

I’m a book without the ink.

I’m a joke without the laugh.

I’m the art without a message.

I’m the night sky without the stars.

I’m life without the purpose.

I’m a bird without her song.

I’m a piano without the melody.

I’m a foot without a shoe.

I’m a bed without a blanket.

I’m a frame without a picture.

I’m an astronaut without space.

I’m a movie without the characters.

I’m a song without the harmony.

I’m the moon without the sun.

I’m the bank without the money.

I’m a mailbox without any letters.

I’m a baby without a bottle.

I’m a store without the products.

I’m a library without any books.

I’m a microphone without the sound.

I’m a radio without the songs.

I’m a dancer without the moves.

I’m a photographer without a camera.

I’m a hamster without a wheel.

I’m a dog without a bone.

I’m a cat without any yarn.

I’m a rabbit without a carrot.

I’m a tree without any leaves.

I’m a sky without any colors.

I’m a mirror without a reflection.

I’m a picture without the image.

I’m an ocean without the waves.

I’m a kite without the wind.

I’m a story without any pages.

I’m thunder without lightning.

I’m a hug without endearment.

I’m a home without a family.

I’m a lock without a key.

I’m a hotel without any rooms.

I’m a hello without a goodbye.

I’m a human without the air.

I’m a heart without a beat.

I’m a me without you.

I’m a girl missing you.

I’m a puzzle without a piece.


Forgiveness is NOT Weak.

I have some advice for your guys, ready for it? Here it is:

Never get mad at someone you love.

It’s hell.

Last week, I was mad at one of my best friends for a small and absurd reason.

In fact, it was such an absurd reason that I can’t even remember why I was mad. It was just that my mind was not mentally in the right place and I started thinking that certain people hated me and I should be angry at them. Sadly, she was one of the people.

It was torture. I was ignoring and avoiding her. She’s the only person who talks to me everyday, and I just took that for granted.

I love her so much, and being mad at her was like being mad at myself.

Last week was one of the worst weeks of my life. I was angry at everyone I cared about. I was extremely sad and I think half of it was because I was mad at her.

She makes me laugh more than anyone else in the world, and ignoring her was torture. It gave me torture. It was like I was walking into darkness the whole time that I was mad at her.

This why I’m telling you, don’t be mad at someone you love. It tears you down physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I don’t know about you, but my best friends are my life. They’re one of the main reasons why I’m still here. They know me more than anyone else, and I mean the real me, not the me everyone else depicts me as. They know what my favorite color is, who my favorite band is, the struggles I go through. They know me.

And to be mad at the people who know and love me is just stupid.

Anger and hatred is stupid. It’s an emotion, yes. I’m very open to feeling the emotions I feel. But I just hate anger. It’s like a pot on the stove that’s bubbling over, you either notice before it’s too late and turn down the heat or it’s too late and everything’s a mess.

I try not to be angry at anyone. That’s kind of hard with a world full of people who lie and break promises. But it’s who I am.

Sometimes I feel like I’m too nice and forgiving, and I start hating myself for being too nice. I forgive too easily. I could be mad at someone internally for something they did, but once they smile and make conversation I forgive. I thought that I was just weak and I have to build up my exterior. But it’s not my weakness. It’s who I am. As much as I might hate forgiving too easily, it’s who I am. No matter what that person did. That’s why I started ignoring Him, because I knew that once I submitted I would forgive him for breaking my heart in a mere second.

I don’t know about you. I don’t know what your forgiveness level is.

But if you’re mad at someone you love, don’t be.

I was mad at another one of my best friends for never seeming to text me or have any effort to talk to me. Then, I had a dream where something horrible happened to her, one minute she was the there, the next she wasn’t. When I woke up, I was so relieved that it wasn’t real. That dream showed me that anger is not worth it.

I don’t care why you’re mad at the person you love. But I do care that you don’t get hurt.

This is life, moments are precious. Nowadays, they’re crucial. Because one minute something’s there, the next it could be gone. They could be gone. It will hurt. I don’t want you to hurt.

Love to the best of your ability. No matter what that person did, you love them for a reason. Whether they make you smile, or laugh, or whatever you love them for a reason.

Forgive. No matter how much I hate my forgiveness level, it’s who I am. I’m the type of person who has no time for grudges, forgive and move on. Move on, or you can also talk about it with the person you’re mad at.

Either way, don’t be mad and angry for a long period of time, it won’t make you feel better, it’ll only tear you down inside. Forgiveness is not weak, it makes you a bigger person. It makes you want to overcome the anger hidden inside your soul. Don’t let anger take over.

Forgiveness is the final form of love.” – Reinhold Niebuhr



No One to Blame

I’m not going to blame myself anymore.

I’m not going to blame my actions,

my feelings,

and definitely not my heart.

It hasn’t helped me in the past to blame myself.

In fact, I’m not going to blame anyone. I’m not going to blame him, I’m not going to blame me.

What is blame anyway?

It’s just assigning responsibility to someone for something wrong that happened.

But maybe I don’t see this as wrong? I don’t see liking someone and the inability of getting over them wrong.

It was just the wrong time for it to happen.

I wasn’t ready for him to reciprocate my feelings the past, and I’m still not ready.

But I’m not blaming myself for not being ready, and not saying anything.

Yes, I still have feelings for him after all this time.

If I said that one or two weeks ago, I would immediately and ultimately blame myself… why?

Because I thought what I was feeling inside was my fault.

I thought it was my fault that I couldn’t stop the feeling, that it was my fault that I couldn’t get over him.

But it’s not my fault, it’s no one’s fault.

They’re my feelings, it’s my heart.

Why was I so open to blaming myself?

Maybe I needed to blame someone to be able to live with the fact that I still like him.

I should stop blaming AND lying to myself.

Yes I still like him and I still care about him.

No, I’m not over him, but that’s ok.

It’s ok because it’s only going to take a little more time.

It’s ok.

It’s ok to still like him.

It’s not my fault. There is no blame to assign. It’s no one’s fault.

I’m actually thankful that I’m still feeling these feelings, because it shows that I’m only human.


Eye Connection

She stood in a crowded room.

So many faces. So many figures.

Everyone had someone, they were busy. They were either in a conversation or fascinated by one.

All she was trying to do was look for a familiar face.

A room full of people, how could she feel so alone?

She wore a simple dress, not drawing too much attention to herself.

She stood, probably looking like a lost girl at a carnival, but who cared? She only came into the room looking for someone to give her a ride home, where it’s safe. Where solitude is.

She’s searching, just looking for someone. Anyone. Who could take her home. Away from the world, away from people.

That’s when her eyes sees his.

He is in a group. Why would he stare at her?

That question doesn’t register her mind when he’s literally doing it. Staring at her.

Is she supposed to look away?

Is she supposed to walk away?

Is he trying to say something to her?

Questions, useless questions. She doesn’t care about them right now.

All she cares is staring into that oh so familiar face.

Maybe later, she could convince herself that she only stared because he was the only person that was familiar to her in a room full of people.

She didn’t look anywhere but his eyes.

She didn’t smile, didn’t cower.

He didn’t smirk, didn’t stop.

They just stared at each other.

Who knows how long?

Seconds… minutes… hours…

It felt like forever.

It was like he could tell her all he needed to say, and she could do the same.

It was intense.

Their eyes were the window to the other’s soul, and the window was so wide open that a bird could fly in and cause a commotion… and still neither would notice.

Because they’re too occupied with each other. Telling the other one things that could never come out of their mouth.

What are they saying you might wonder?

No one knows but the two of them.

Unfortunately the moment ends, it can’t last forever.

The girl is approached by another familiar face, telling her that they could give her a ride.

So she goes with them, not having enough strength to look back at him and confess to herself the risk she just took, giving in to her feelings.

How could something so innocent turn into a consequence?

Maybe you could convince her it was nothing, that’s what she convinced herself. To stop the familiar feelings that she’s long forgotten.

If only she knew.

But what would she believe, his actions or his eyes?

Either way, she couldn’t live in the killing curiosity of the situation.

So, she stored the memory in the back of her mind, almost as if it never happened. Like every other memory of him. But this memory would be in the farthest reach.

Because out of everything, she couldn’t handle his eyes. They were too much. They said too much, too much for her to contain, to read into. She was reading too much, so she had to close the book.

Eye connection is intimate.

It’s about you and another connecting on another level.

I have this thing about eyes.

They’re beautiful.

They’re captivating.

Even if it’s a boring brown like mine. To me, brown eyes aren’t boring.

They’re anything but that.

All eyes are different, they’re lovely.

No matter the mask you put on, the eyes will always recognize the person behind the mask. Because the eyes are it. No matter what, you’ll always recognize them.

They’ll always bring you back, no matter what.

The eyes are magical like that.

Someone has the ability to look at them, and learn bits and pieces of a person.

Eyes can say the things that can never come out of your mouth.


7.18.16. two years


It’s been 2 years.

2 years since I’ve wanted to get over him.

I never intended to know the specific date. But I just happened to stumble upon an old tweet the day that it happened. The day that my heart was broken in a way that it has never been broken before.

Anyone interested in what happened that day?

I guess it’s time to finally explain why I had to get over this guy.

It was after I graduated 8th grade. Everyone was going to a new school, we would be high schoolers.

Everything began to change that summer.

It was by this time, in 2014, that I was volunteering for the same thing that I mentioned in my last post. That year, he was there volunteering too.

I liked him, with no intention of wanting to get over him.

After that summer, he was going to go to one school, I was going to a different school. He knew that. I knew that.

I don’t really remember much from that week. But I remember him coming up to my best friend and I. He used his usual charm and flashed that stupid smirk. He asked me if I missed him. I didn’t reply, I hid behind my hair. How could I reply? I whispered a small “No.” But I don’t think he heard me because he instantly said something along the lines of “Don’t worry. I miss you too.” Is it funny how he said too? I didn’t even tell him yes, I would miss him, yet he said too.

I was so ignorant to actually believe that he missed me.

I texted my other best friend about this and she gave me courage to be more “upfront” with him. I didn’t actually believe that I had a chance with him, even when I liked him whole-heartedly. Because the girls he dated were our classmates. I knew them. None of them were like me. None of them, I could compare to. They were way more prettier and outgoing. I knew I wasn’t really his type. Yet I believed that I was. I believed in the little things that he did for me and said to me. That was my mistake.

Anyway, back to the story. I come to volunteer the next day actually believing that he missed me. Then I see it.

He’s sitting next to a girl. Talking with her. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s something. Maybe him talking with a girl is nothing. Maybe you think that that’s a stupid reason. But there was just something that jump started in my heart. Like a realization. A pure realization.

He has always been a player type of guy. He dated so many girls in our old school, he even broke up with a girl to go out with another girl. Who even does that? I even called him out on being a player, he denied it, but I knew it was true. I knew it was true but I was blinded by my heart for some reason. But this time seeing him, with that girl, everything clicked. I didn’t see him as this “hero” guy anymore.

Back to the story, seeing him with that girl… I just broke. Maybe it’s because I knew the girl. I don’t know. They were sitting with a group of “cool” people, but he was sitting next to her. They were sitting near the bathroom and I made up this stupid excuse to my friend that I needed to go to the bathroom for a paper towel. I walked right in front of him and nothing. Did I expect something to happen?

Now here I am 2 years later.


Trying to get over him.

And sure, I’ve made some progress, I won’t pretend like I haven’t grown after 2 years.

But he still has this affect on me.

And I don’t know why.

I was reading some old posts on my blog and I came across my “You Don’t NEED a Boyfriend/Girlfriend” post.

I re-read the part about Him stating:

“…Lately I’ve been thinking what if he actually told me that he liked me, you know in the past. I mean I would’ve been happy but then what would happen? Would I even be prepared for what would happen? I don’t think so. In a way, I’m kind of glad that this guy didn’t reciprocate my feelings, because I would’ve been in a whole bigger mess if he did, if I’m being honest.”

A question haunted haunts me.

Am I not over him because he never reciprocated my feelings? Or that he did but never told me? Is that why I’m not over him? No.

Like I said before, if, back then, he told me that he liked me; I would have been happy. But. Then. What? I didn’t know anything about a relationship when I was 13/14 years old.

So why am I not over him yet? If I already realized that I wasn’t even ready for him to reciprocate my feelings shouldn’t that mean that I should be over him, in a sense. I should forget the past. I should forget him. Since I wasn’t even ready in the past, I wasn’t even ready for reciprocation. Bam. Realization. I should forget about my feelings for him. It’s the past. I realized my mistake. I realized I wasn’t ready. That’s why I should be over it. I should be over him.

But I’m not.


Because I’m angry at him.

I’m disappointed at him, in myself.

That’s why I can’t get over him.

I can’t get over the fact that he hurt me.

I can’t get over the fact that he played me.

He made me feel all these feelings. He was the first person I liked based on personality and not on looks. He made me feel special.

Then he found other special people.

I can’t get over the fact that I did this to myself.

I was young. I was vulnerable. I didn’t have walls.

Maybe it’s not my fault. Maybe that’s what you’ll tell me.

But it was my fault that I opened my heart up so easily. I was oblivious. I was vulnerable, like I said before.

I was stupid.

The “I miss you too,” wasn’t the only action I was ignorant to. I also thought a simple hug was him telling me that he liked me. I talked to one of my best friends about it and she convinced me to tell him that I liked him. I don’t know how I would, but I got this sense of courage. I was hopeful. Then the next day, I found out he had a girl friend, while he hugged me for the first time.

When he hugged me, I was getting over him. I was ignoring him. But I let him in for a simple second, and it completely ruined me. Don’t tell me that it’s not my fault. Because it is. I submitted. I let my beliefs crumble when I wrapped my arms around him.

(The hug was about a year ago)

That hug was just like the I miss you too. This was, is, how I am. I believe in actions, but even they can be lies. He always mislead me with his actions. That’s how I got so fooled, how my heart got broken.

No matter what. No matter where I am in my getting over him status bar, I. Will. Always. Submit.

That makes me angry.

He makes me angry.

He has this huge power over me.

He runs around in my mind e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y.

I can pretend that I don’t care. But I do.

I care how he’s doing. I care.

I miss him. I don’t want to, but I do.

And as long as I like him, he will only give me pain.

He gives me pain… yet I still like him.

Now do you see why I can’t get over him?

I’m angry that he gives me pain.

Shouldn’t that mean that I hate him?

I should hate him. I am angry with him. But I like him too.

What the hell is wrong with me?

731 days is far too many.

Do I sound crazy? I probably do.

Ultimately I can’t get over him because I can’t let go of the past.

I can’t help believing that he’s the same person I fell for.

That’s what makes me angry… and heartbroken.

2 years is a lot, huh?

I just need some closure. I just want that. I want to prove that I can live without thinking about him everyday, not only for me, but for my heart. I just want him to do something. Something that will give me closure.

I kind of had doubts posting this, since it was very, very personal for me. But writing it out, I just can’t let it rot in my drafts. One of the reasons as to why I started this blog was because I thought writing about him would help me get over him, and it has helped me. Writing this post, it came from deep cracks and I’m still having doubts posting this, but talking about it out loud helps me so… Thank you for anyone who listened.