feelings 1:12 a.m.

I don’t like this feeling.

I don’t want to feel it.

And the worst part about the feeling? I know that I’m going to keep feeling it.

I don’t like talking to some of my friends about it. Becuase it feels like I’m being “overdramatic.”

Am I?

Am I just taking things out of proportion?

Would you feel the same way if… I don’t know how to give this story without context. But I don’t want to give context because I’m just so exhausted, not only over this issue but the fact that it’s the same damn person every single time. It’s the same person who makes me feel like shit.

I don’t think it even really matters what happened but more so how I keep letting it happen.

I keep forgiving Phoenix for everything he puts me through. And not because he deserves it or solely because I have feelings for him. But because I feel like my emotions aren’t valid.

I mean if I thought of him as a friend would I still be hurt over everything he’s done to me? I’m not actually sure. I feel like I would still be hurt but not as much.

But the problem is, he keeps hurting me. And I keep letting him.

Whenever I find a reason to be mad at him, it never sticks around. It’s an excessive disturbing cycle. I get mad, I might rant to some of my friends, I think of all the crap he’s put me through, I “think” I’m ready to hurt him as much as he’s hurt me, and then… he talks to me and I submit. All it takes is one mere act of him sending me a message and maybe at first, I’m like “You’re a piece of crap.” But eventually, he warms up to my heart again and the cycle restarts itself.

I’m tired.

I know I can never stay mad at him. But I should. Because he keeps treating me like I don’t have feelings. Just the other week I told him that he hurt my feelings (kind of in a joking way but also in a serious way) and he made it into this game and told me to “toughen up.” He’ll never take anything seriously. He thinks all my feelings and emotions are a game.

Whenever he tells me a lie, he never feels bad. He never thinks twice about hurting me.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Word of advice? If someone has treated you like shit in the past, they’ll keep treating you like shit.

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control.

To have something in control of your mind is exhausting and ironically…

hard to control.

You cannot control something/someone that controls you.

You submit.

And it’s the only thing you can do.

You submit so hard that you start believing and creating new feelings and emotions shaped to your controller’s beliefs.

Whether you’ve noticed or not you’ve started destroying and erasing pieces of yourself.

You’ve let your controller take over.

Have you ever watched a movie where a person is being mind-controlled and you’ve wondered well why can’t they just snap out of it with resilience?

But have you realized that the exact same thing is happening to you?

You’re being mind-controlled.

You’re being taken over.

You’re not being yourself.

Would you call that healthy?

Would you want that to keep going on?

Sometimes the thing or person controlling you isn’t always some guy in a cloak with out-of-this-world powers or a hypnotizing object. Sometimes what or who’s controlling you is unaware or not meant to control you, but you’ve let them control you.

It’s hard not to submit.

Submitting, nowadays, is easier than fighting.

But you should fight.

Because your mind deserves it. It deserves peace, calmness,

and it deserves not to be controlled.

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weight.

Was I a weight?

On your shoulder?

On your soul?

Was I dispensable?

Was it nice when it ended?

Now you don’t have to put in any more effort.

Was I a burden?

You had to carry my insecurities and my secrets like a pack mule, now it doesn’t matter anymore.

Now that it’s done.

Was I easy?

Someone that could be easily fooled and played.

Target practice.

Was I nothing?

Just a useless pawn who, according to you, is devoid of any feelings.

Who apparently holds all the blame for everything.

Was I a back-up?

Just something that could be saved for later.

You have me in case it didn’t work out with someone else.

Was I naive?

Even through all my doubts, I believed all your lies.

I was falling faster than gravity would ever allow.

Was I the village idiot?

For believing that everything coming out of your mouth was the truth.

I played your games, unbeknownst to me that they were actually games.

Was I replaceable?

Once I’m gone nothing will change with you.

Because I was nothing to you in the first place.

 

Was I too broken?

Maybe you had to get out before you got too deep.

It was too much for you.

Was I wrong?

About everything?

For believing in a dumb reality and breaking down my walls.

Am I a weight?

no.

I am not a weight.

I am not dispensable.

I am not a burden.

I am not easy.

I am anything but nothing.

I am not back-up.

I am not naive.

I am not the village idiot.

I am not replaceable.

I am not too broken.

And I was not wrong. Nor will I ever be wrong.

I won’t let you do that to me anymore. I won’t let you lure me into thinking that this is all my fault. It’s not my fault.

I won’t let you control me anymore.

I am not a weight anymore.

You won’t be my weight anymore.

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all it takes is a day for things to happen.

I met you again on a Monday.

It was a weird day for me.

It was confirmed that we had four classes together that semester on a Tuesday.

Purely coincidental, right?

I realized that I started harboring feelings for you on a Saturday.

Was it only because I wanted to get over someone?

You remembered me on a Friday.

It was weird for us to be talking again for the first time in 2 years.

You smiled at me for the first time on a Friday.

We had Spanish presentations that day.

You said “Hello” to me on a Friday.

And that’s the moment I knew I was in for a long ride.

I saw you with your girlfriend outside the door of our first period class on a Tuesday.

And my heart broke in a way I didn’t ever want to feel again (but still keep feeling).

I told my other best friend that I like you on a Sunday.

I guess that’s when it became real.

I had to sit next to you in class on a Thursday.

Because the seat next to my best friend was taken.

I gave you the binder that you left in class on a Thursday.

But I never told you it was me.

I liked having a conversation with you on a Thursday.

It was awkward for me at first but you were still the same nice person from freshman year.

You moved to the right in the front of the room for me so that I could be able to stand next to you and see (because I’m short) on a Friday.

And I still don’t know what made you do that.

I realized you started bringing me happiness on a Tuesday.

And I vented to my best friend about how you would never break up with your girlfriend and it was hopeless.

You told me not to give up on a project on a Thursday.

So I didn’t.

I realized I couldn’t do anything about my feelings on a Tuesday.

Your smile and the way you looked at me didn’t help.

I found out that you broke up with your girlfriend on a Wednesday.

It was hard to believe, I didn’t think it would actually happen.

My friend told me to get your number on a Saturday.

And I thought how would that ever happen.

You accidentally bumped into me on a Thursday.

And it was hilarious because you felt so bad and thought you had crushed me.

I figured out our friendship was platonic on a Thursday.

And it hurt me.

I realized I didn’t want to lose your friendship on a Friday.

So I held on, even with my feelings, because of who you were.

Our Spanish teacher assigned your seat right in front of me on a Friday.

And I knew life was laughing at me somewhere.

You smiled at me for the hundredth (I didn’t actually count) time on a Thursday.

That’s when I realized that could be the one thing that could kill me.

Your ex-girlfriend got yelled at by her friends for not wearing her jacket on a Thursday.

She didn’t have it because you had it and my heart broke for the ______ time.

I listened to sad music and created a playlist on Spotify on a Thursday.

Because it hurt so damn much.

I had to avoid you and be abrupt with your questions in Photography class on a Friday.

But I had to ask you for help in that class and you cared.

We had a full conversation in class on a Friday.

It helped but I was very confused.

I got your snapchat on a Friday.

But only because my best friend wanted the pictures of the Spanish packet that you discreetly took on your phone.

I messaged you first on a Saturday.

That’s when our first text conversation began.

You made fun of how I almost fell off the hill on a Friday.

And I wanted to make you fall.

You stopped our conversation and left my side to go talk to her on a Friday.

Of course, why would you keep talking to me?

You asked me if I had depression on a Wednesday.

I told you the truth about my anxiety and knew that this wouldn’t be an easy crush.

I opened up about my anxiety to you on a Saturday.

And it was weird for me.

You told me you were interested in who I was on a Sunday.

And if my anxiety was convincing me that I was bothering you- you wouldn’t be doing your job as a good friend.

I found out we had no classes together in second semester on a Monday.

I felt my heart drop and questioned life’s intentions.

I told you that I was upset about it on a Monday.

I can’t believe I was that comfortable with you to tell you that.

You told me you would never forget me and that we would still message each other on a Tuesday.

It made me feel better.

You got yelled at by her to hurry up on a Wednesday.

And one of my classmates/friends asked me if you were back together with her.

You sat next to me in class on a Thursday.

Because that would be our last class that we had together, but the 45 minutes went by too fast.

My best friend told you that I could sing on a Friday.

And you said you were gonna hear me sing one day or another.

The new semester began on a Monday.

It broke my heart not to see you every day in my classes.

I missed you especially in Spanish class on a Monday.

Because you made that class bearable.

I saw you on the staircase with your new haircut on a Tuesday.

And I yelled at you for not responding to my message.

I saw you walking with her on a Tuesday.

And I knew, for a fact, that you would never miss me as much as I miss you.

I asked you how you would feel if our friendship ended on a Thursday.

And you told me you would be sad, real sad.

I thought my anxiety messed up our friendship on a Monday.

Because I was overthinking the fact that you didn’t talk to me for a week because your messaging wasn’t working.

I realized that I was scared on a Monday.

I was scared to lose you.

I told one of my friends who’s also your friend that I liked you on a Monday.

And she told me that you never got back together with her, you were just best friends with her.

I thought you weren’t trying anymore in our friendship on a Friday.

Did you even want to hang out and see me?

I turned around to talk to my friend just so you wouldn’t talk to me on a Friday.

Because I needed to protect my heart.

You told me you had your college life planned out already on a Sunday.

And I was jealous because I didn’t even know where I would want to go to college.

You hugged me on a Monday.

And my heart wouldn’t stop palpitating for 10 minutes.

You told me my sarcasm makes you laugh on a Thursday.

I really was growing comfortable with you.

You told me that we should go to Ethiopia and India on a Monday.

But it was just for the conversation, right?

You told me we should text shorter to each other on a Friday.

So that we would be able to have time to talk more.

You told me you wanted to watch the school play with me on a Thursday.

But we both had conflicting schedules and I told you that there would be other opportunities for us to hang out.

I gave you a nickname on a Saturday.

And you were already finding ideas for mine.

I told you that fake people don’t know the real me and think I’m quiet on a Saturday.

You told me that must mean I’m comfortable with you and we’re comfortable with each other.

You gave me a nickname on Sunday.

And we figured out that we had a lot in common, like finding puns hilarious.

You told me that instead of planning to go to the play we should’ve gone to see a beautiful sunset on a Monday.

I told you I want to escape from the city and see the stars and you agreed that that should be our goal for the semester/summer.

You gave me candy on a Monday.

I have horrible eye-to-hand coordination so you had to throw it into the hoodie of my jacket.

I saw you on the staircase and you stopped me from going to lunch to have a short conversation on a Monday.

You asked me if I wanted to hang out with you over spring break, making you late to class.

You told me that whenever we see each other briefly at school and have our little talks away from texting it makes your day on a Monday.

You really aren’t helping me.

You told me you felt bad because you went to Chipotle and couldn’t buy me anything because you didn’t have enough cash on a Monday.

Did you really think of me or were you just saying that?

I told you I had a crappy day and you told me that you hope my smile is saved for Tuesday.

In a platonic way, right?

You told me you drove illegally to Chipotle on a Wednesday.

You’re such a bad influence and I thought I had to make sure to give you a bit of my good influence.

You told me you were sad that you didn’t see me on the last day of school before spring break on a Friday.

You claimed that you would pick me up and I told you I was not looking forward to being thrown like a football.

I replied to you shortly while I was in my dark hole on a Monday.

I had a little hope that you would ask me what’s wrong but thought it was just another one of my mind’s impossible realities.

You asked me what’s wrong on a Monday.

I dropped my phone; you weren’t actually supposed to make my mind’s fantasies to come true.

You told me you had to make sure that I knew that you cared on a Wednesday.

And that you would be there when I was ready to open up to you. Liar.

I messaged you my childhood pictures because you wanted to see them on a Thursday.

You thought I was so cute and I asked for your childhood pictures too.

I went into my dark hole again and I opened up to you on a Friday.

My mistake for actually thinking that you would be there and you actually cared.

You read my message without a reply on a Saturday.

And I ruined myself waiting for you to reply because I was vulnerable.

You sent me a message the night before school on a Monday.

I didn’t open it because I was a pissed you left me hanging for two days.

I opened your message on a Wednesday.

And it had nothing to do with me opening up to you.

I told people I could trust how you responded to me opening up to you on a Thursday.

And they told me I deserve better and to move on.

I blamed myself for the whole thing on a Friday.

Because if I didn’t open up to you we would still be talking like we normally do.

I asked my friend if I should be upfront with you about the whole thing on a Saturday.

She told me not to bring it up and to just start a new conversation, so I did.

I started a new conversation on a Saturday.

And I wonder if I didn’t start a new conversation, would you have even cared? Did it even phase you that we hadn’t talked for 3 days?

My friend told me that if you hurt me again she would fight you on a Saturday.

I trusted that you wouldn’t because I knew who you were. I was wrong. I don’t know who you are anymore.

We had a conversation on a Sunday.

But it felt weird, you weren’t responding like you used to.

I opened a message of yours on a Monday.

And you put no effort into replying to what I had to say. Your paragraphs turned into uninterested short sentences.

I cried because of you on a Monday.

Because did I ruin us? Or was I fool for thinking that you actually cared about me?

You opened my message on a Monday.

And you didn’t reply, nothing new.

You replied to me on a Wednesday.

It took you two days to give me your two-second, half-assed reply.

My friends saw you with her on a Wednesday.

I thought why am I even trying anymore when you don’t care.

I saw you on a Thursday.

But how could you expect me to look directly into your eyes? I couldn’t. I had to leave fast.

I overthink about you every day.

Nothing has or will ever change that.

It’s funny how so much can happen in a mere day.

How a friendship can be made.

How feelings can be developed.

But also, how everything can come crashing down.

I’m writing this about the two of us on a Saturday.

Is it the end of us? Was there ever an us?

«Music Saturday»

Rockabye by Clean Bandit ft. Sean Paul & Anne-Marie 

Runnin’ Home to You by Grant Gustin 

No Promises by Cheat Codes ft. Demi Lovato

If This is Love by Ruth B

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thoughts 10:24 pm

Do you know how hard it is?

To restrict yourself from talking to the one person who has always been there to make you smile and uncontrollably laugh but has also been the one who’s done you wrong?

I just want some answers.

I just need to know why.

I want to know what I did wrong.

I just want to talk to him again and see his face.

I just want to erase the drama.

There’s nothing more I want to do than let him know that I’m still there and I still care.

But what about him?

Where is he?

How does he feel?

Does he even care?

Am I just another conversation to him?

Is this easy for him?

Will he wonder what happened?

Does he even know something’s wrong?

What if he turned around when he exited that door and saw me,

What would he have done?

No.

What would I have done? 

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giving up

I don’t think that I can do this anymore.

Nothing makes sense to me anymore.

My emotions are like a fucking roller coaster, one minute I’m up and the next I’m down.

So what’s the point?

What’s the point in trying so hard for happiness, if it’s not in your favor?

I put so much of my strength in hope, and it only ruined me.

I keep hoping for this bright and amazing future. What if my future is just more crap? Ever since I’ve started hoping my life has only been crap.

I can’t keep pretending and fooling myself into thinking that I’m ok and I’m “good.” Because I’m not good.

I’m only lying to myself if I do say I’m good.

I tried going to one of my friends for help, but they have a life. I can’t bother people with lives about my sad life. It’s not their burden to carry.

Honestly, I’m not here because of hope or some great miracle. I’m here because I’m too weak to take my own life.

I keep telling myself, telling my body, to keep going because of stupid hope.

But I’m in too much pain and it hurts every day.

I would never want to be selfish and I know that there are people who care about me. But is it worth it?

What have people done to let me stay? Constantly letting me down, breaking promises, and hurting my feelings. You know the only friends that I talk to are on snapchat and I’m pretty sure all of them (except 1) are only talking to me because they want to keep that stupid streak number going.

Isn’t that comforting?

I barely have a life. Do you know that for the majority of spring break I was in this damn house hoping for a little freedom but never getting it? While I had to watch my other friends have a life.

There’s nothing I want more than to tell someone that I’m suffering, but what happens after they “fix” me? Wouldn’t they just leave again?

I have to stop fooling myself thinking that there’s going to be happiness at the end of this roller coaster. In my life, I have never been happy for more than 2 days. How do I fool myself that there’s happiness waiting for me in the future? I’m meant to be sad all my life, I’m meant to suffer through the pain. I’m not meant for this world.

I’m not strong enough to keep pretending that I’m ok. I’m not strong enough to stick around so I don’t hurt the people I love. I’m not strong enough to “roll with the punches.” I’m not strong enough to see what this life has waiting for me.

I’m not strong enough.