anxiety doesn’t stop with family.

Another event I didn’t know of.

This past Saturday there was another planned family event that no one told me about. It was my uncle’s engagement party. But he’s not that old he’s only 28 or near that age.

When my dad told me about the party I kind of didn’t want to go. I love my family but I’m always the odd one out and I never feel like I fit in because all of my cousins are older and I never know what to say to them. Anxiety doesn’t stop with family…

Actually, this is the environment I got my “shy” label from. This side of the family always saw me as quiet. But I was only like 7 when they gave me a label, they never even gave me a chance. Now, that label is over my head whenever they see me.

This is one of the reasons I didn’t wanna go. They never give me a chance. And I’m always gonna be a shy, little girl in their eyes.

As I said before, I love my family, but this was one of the worst nights of my life. I had SO much anxiety. I felt so uncomfortable and out of place. I felt like a stranger in my own family.

An actual stranger. One of my aunts had a baby that I didn’t even know about. And the uncle who was getting engaged? He has a brother and his brother is already married and has a kid. I didn’t even know this.

I thought the idea that no one told me anything was me being a lil dramatic but no. No one really tells me anything.

My anxiety was so off the charts, I don’t know how I didn’t break in the middle of the party. The only thing I ever did was sit at a table and conversate with some aunts and uncles who sat at the table but not much.

Maybe you’re wondering how I could just sit at a table while I was in a room of my extended family. I don’t know either. My anxiety is just… I don’t know. I honestly don’t understand how people can socialize. I had no idea what to say to anyone, what was I gonna talk about with people? I don’t know how to go up to someone and start a conversation. What would I even say to my middle-aged cousins? I don’t see my extended family that much, only at holidays… so I’m not really close to anyone. I didn’t know what to say.

It even feels weird typing it because honestly… What the hell is wrong with me? How can I not socialize with my own family?

I don’t know. How many times am I going to say that?

I just felt so out of the equation.

The uncle who was getting engaged? He came up from behind me and instead of a “Hi” or greeting or whatever he said, “Hey, instead of no-cializing, can you do me a favor? Can you take a picture?”

It was horrible. I knew I didn’t belong there. Even though my blood technically belonged there (because blood relatives) my body and my being were not meant to be there.

I remember I saw one of my cousins and she said “Hi” but the way she said it… she didn’t even say my family pet name or any name at all. She just said hi like I was a customer who walked into a store. And this cousin has known me since the moment I was born.

I always thought when I grew up with these great, at the moment, people around me they would be there to comfort me, to teach me things, to be a phone call away. When I was young, they paid attention. They cared more. But now that I’m a teenager? They don’t really care at all.

Or maybe that’s not true.

I think there might be some repressed memories I’m choosing to forget.

Because there’s one memory I remember that broke my heart back then and breaks it now.

It was Christmas and I was like prepubescent young maybe 8 or 9. Everyone gathered to take pictures: the young people of the family cousins, young uncles and aunts. And you know everyone was gathered to take the picture and everyone was standing and posing and then one uncle is like “Wait you guys forgot about Sisy!” (my pet name, short for sister. My bro gave it to me) It was the worst feeling in the world. I was literally forgotten and I was sitting right there. And then I got in the picture but it was like a pity picture.

And you know? They did that same exact thing the other day.

All the female cousins were gathered to take a picture. At first, I didn’t realize they were taking a picture then an aunt tapped me on the shoulder and enthusiastically said: “Sisy, go get in the picture!” But this aunt was the only one who noticed, none of the people posing for the picture could’ve cared less. And my aunt (the same one who told me to get in the picture) I think she felt a little bad for me because no one asked me to get in. But like I said before, no one posing cared less. So my aunt had to make the excuse that “Oh you’re not the cousin, right?” (in a nice, sympathetic way, I love this aunt) Because technically my mom was the cousin (she wasn’t in the picture either).

They did it to me in the past, they did it now. 

As soon as we left, I got in the car and cried silent tears because this is my life. I didn’t fit in when I was a kid, I didn’t fit in now.

I don’t understand. Sometimes I don’t understand why I’m still here. How I’m still here. I can never picture myself not having anxiety, in general, but also with this family. How am I going to act when I get married or something? Will my husband’s family even like me? How can I even be okay with the term “extended family” when I’m as anxious as I am?

I know I’m reaching wayyy into the future. I’m only seventeen. But this is what I think about. I can’t see myself changing.

I can’t see things changing for me.

Do you ever wonder if your family really loves you or if it’s just forced? I know my mom, dad, and (let’s be honest, sometimes) my brother loves me. But what about those who don’t know anything about me and vice versa? The ones who have drifted apart with time and hardships?

Does their love come from the heart? Or does it come from the blood?

Do they even like seeing me?

What is wrong with me? Why doesn’t anxiety stop with family?

The only difference from the past and the present is the knowledge of my anxiety. When I used to feel uncomfortable like this, I never knew what it was. But the worst part is, my family doesn’t know what it is.

They think I’m just like this because I’m a teenager with angst and unsociable means. When literally the idea of social interaction makes me feel physically, emotionally, and mentally uncomfortable.

Trust me, knowing that I have anxiety has made my life make more sense. But it has not made anything easier.

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all it takes is a day for things to happen. pt. 2

pt. 1

There was never supposed to be a part two, you see.

But things happened and days passed by where I couldn’t fight my mind, couldn’t disregard my heart, couldn’t live without knowing how he felt…

But the second time around, we still ended up here again. It all came around full circle.

I still don’t know how he feels. He still causes me pain.

And I still want to fix this.

all it takes is a day for things to happen.

It starts over again on a Sunday.

Because I needed to know your side of the story.

My over-analyzation and overthinking ruined me on a Sunday.

So I built up the courage to start talking to you again telling you, “I don’t want to bother you but can we talk?”

You reply to me that same day, on a Sunday.

And of course, you’re that person saying “Why would you? Sure we can.”

I told you that I was mad at you on a Sunday.

You had no idea that anything was wrong… or at least that’s what you said.

You told me that if someone stays quiet with you then you lose focus on a Monday.

You definitely know how to make a girl special… what does losing focus even mean?

I stupidly told you my feelings saying I missed you, I thought I was bothering you, and I thought you didn’t care on a Monday.

The idiot I am, I thought you would actually tell me what I wanted to hear.

But all you said to that was “Aw” on a Tuesday.

This is the day you said hi to me and my friend and I pretended I didn’t see you.

We talked for the first time face to face after all the previous “chapstick/not talking to each other shit” on a Thursday.

It was extremely awkward because I can see what I did to you… I forced you to care.

I told my friend that I was just going to “go with the flow” concerning you on a Thursday.

Because I honestly don’t know where this is headed… I still don’t know.

I saw you three times on a Friday.

I fooled myself through my happiness thinking I could only see you as a “Friend.”

You talked about me not being able to say hi back to you because, well you assume it’s because I’m shy on a Saturday.

When really it’s because you’re always with her, your ex-girlfriend, your “best friend.”

You told me you deleted snapchat because of drama on a Monday.

You asked me if there was another way for us to communicate so we exchange numbers… the awkwardness seeming to fade away.

I found out you had feelings for some girl on a Monday.

And I wrote a song about the pain because I knew it wasn’t me; you brought me up then brought me crashing down all in the same day.

You told me you wanted to hang out with me anytime soon on a Tuesday.

You asked me if I was free the next day and I was filled with fear because of this damn rollercoaster: one second I’m up and the next, I’m down.

We hung out on a Wednesday.

You took me to a huge library and we just talked… about our pasts, our fears, our futures.

I put my head on your knee and your shoulder on a Wednesday.

And it felt like the world couldn’t get to us and whatever we were didn’t matter because in that moment it was just us.

My parents got mad at me on a Wednesday.

Because we talked so long we lost track of time and I got home after dark.

You apologized for making me late on a Thursday.

I told you it was okay because the time together was worth it and you agreed.

I saw you on a Tuesday.

And I had to create distance between us while we briefly talked because I felt that I was too caught up in the moment during our hang out being physically close to you and I get carried away sometimes.

You didn’t reply to my messages until two days later on a Thursday.

You told me your phone is messed up and you didn’t get my messages until two days later— this situation definitely isn’t good for a girl with anxiety.

I asked you how your week was on a Friday.

You told me it was awesome, fun, weird, cool, etc (so many other adjectives) but you also said it was sad because you didn’t see me all week… I didn’t ask for that.

You tell me to do good on the SAT, you say “My Angelc legs” for the first time, and you also say that we should hang out at the library afterward on a Saturday.

But you didn’t send me any follow-up texts after I took the test so I had to ask you what the plan was.

I called you on a Saturday.

And you told me you became busy all of a sudden… and my heart broke while realizing that I’m an idiot.

You told me you would text me later that night on a Saturday.

And that was the first of your many lies that my heart would later disregard.

You tell my friend that you think I’m mad at you on a Monday.

And I agreed because I was.

You asked my friend if we could talk alone for a second on a Monday.

I still don’t know why you wanted to talk alone, you just told me to keep a lookout on my phone because you were free to text me.

You text me four minutes to midnight saying “Since it’s still today…” on a Monday.

It is four minutes until that day ended you piece of crap, and yeah I actually called you that.

I tell you we’re not on the same page and that I’m pages ahead of you on a Tuesday.

You told me you’re chapters ahead and you don’t like when I say “the end.”

You took everything as a joke on a Wednesday.

You told me that you couldn’t wait to shut my attitude down. I told you it’s not attitude, it’s hurt feelings and you told me to “Toughen up Angelic Legs.”

I saw you after we had a back and forth over texts on a Thursday.

And you wanted to annoy me with an insult and I told you I was too tired to deal with you and you smirked and said “Uh-huh.”

You stopped me on the stairwell on a Friday.

And even though I would make you late for class you wanted to keep talking to me… the way you looked at me and stopped me from leaving and your smile urgh.

I made a list of why you only think of me as a friend on a Sunday.

And life was like “Yeah right.”

You told me that you want to hang out again and to tell you my free days on a Monday.

I was mad at you but once I read that text I suddenly wasn’t anymore.

I told you that I’m free any day except Tuesday and Wednesday on a Monday.

And you asked me if we should do Thursday… (these days are the confusing, frustrating ones, so hold on).

I told you I was actually free today but it’s too late now because you might be busy on a Tuesday.

You were busy and the fact that I reply to your texts seemingly seconds afterward whilst you reply hours/a day later makes me wanna hide in a corner.

You told me we might be able to hang out next week Monday on a Wednesday.

And I thought, “Wait, are we still hanging out on Thursday?” (Is it frustrating yet?)

I saw you running late to your class on a Wednesday.

And you told me we might be able to hang out tomorrow and you would text me soon… I actually believed you would give me details soon for a second.

At the last period, in the second to last hour of school, while I’m filled with anxiety wondering if we’re meeting today, you tell me that you’re busy and we should hang out next week Monday on a Thursday.

And you made my last week of school a h.e.a.d.a.c.h.e. If you weren’t even free any day that week, why did you ask?

You reinstall Snapchat on a Friday.

And I get anxiety all over again because your eyes are there again and I would feel the need to post on my story just for you to see it… that feeling I hate.

You start a new conversation with me on snapchat on a Sunday.

You commented on a picture of my best friend and I. Also, me freaking out over growing up… we were getting back to a conversation after a week of frustrating texts of “This day? No, this day.”

“Next week Monday” comes, the day we’re supposed to hang out and I wait anxiously and aggravatingly on a Monday.

But I hear nothing from you… I ruined myself waiting for something, anything and this is a reason why Mondays are now my least favorite days.

I send you a text through messaging, not snapchat, asking you what happened on a Tuesday.

To this day, you still have not responded to that text… wow, that feeling of wanting to hide in a corner is definitely not foreign when it comes to you.

You text me on snapchat on a Wednesday.

And I remember I had one of the worst headaches that night.

I got my driver’s license posting on my snapchat story “I WANT TO SCREAM BUT I MIGHT SCARE THESE PEOPLE” on a Wednesday.

And all you say is “You can scream if you want to.” Disregarding my text, the texts I sent you Sunday, and my feelings… but it’s not the first time with the last one.

My friends tell me to just send you a rude message and go to sleep on a Wednesday.

They kept me sane and from losing my cool with you.

You send me on a message on a Thursday.

I didn’t want to deal with your bullshit… so I waited a day to open it— so you’ll know what it’s like.

I opened your message on a Friday.

You told me, “We need a new day to hang out, right? Tell me your free days.” So, we’re gonna do this again? I’m tired. 

I don’t tell you my free days on a Friday.

Instead, I want to tell you “Are you just going to blow me off like this week?” And my friend persuades me to actually tell you that so you can feel the burn.

You tell me that you wanted to hang out outside and it was raining that day so you canceled the hangout but you forgot to notify me on a Friday.

And I thought “Is this really your excuse?” Because, honestly, what kind of bullshit? How do you forget to tell me, did you think telepathy would work? And why did you only give me an explanation when I confronted you about it?

I openly call you a jerk on a Friday.

And you make it into a joke.

You replied to my sass with “Damn” because I was still mad at you on a Saturday.

I asked you if it hurt, and if it did then good.

You told me that’s why you won’t give up on me on a Sunday.

I don’t understand why you said that… it didn’t fit what we were talking about. Why? Was that a lie too?

I took a picture of my permit besides my license because I was smiling in my license but mad in my permit. I put it on my snapchat story blocking out my address and other personal stuff on a Monday.

But I guess I didn’t block it out that good because you send me a message saying “So you live on _______ Avenue?” And I questioned how you were able to tell what my address was byecause of a blurry picture and a few unblocked letters at the end.

You told me you were going to show up at my window one day sneaking into my house on a Monday.

I teased you saying you don’t know my house number… there we go, we’re back to us.

You told me we should hang out tomorrow on a Monday.

And we did.

We hung out on a Tuesday.

We went to a park this time.

We talked about life and little things on a Tuesday.

We looked at the clouds and my heart could’ve manipulated this into thinking it’s something more… and it did.

You circled your arm around my waist and also put it around my shoulders on a Tuesday.

But we’re only friends, right?

You told me that if you saw me on a date while you were downtown you would be like “Oooo I see you” on a Tuesday.

And your reaction was that of a genuine friend, where did someone dating me even come from? We weren’t talking about that.

We had to go separate ways because we were going on different buses on a Tuesday.

I walked away from you and I hoped that you looked at me, and after a few seconds I looked back and you were crossing the street. That’s the last time I would see you when our relationship would still be “okay.”

You left for Seattle on a Saturday.

I messaged you saying I can finally breathe again and joked around with you; telling you “Have fun and you know you don’t have to come back.”

Instead of a usual insult back you just reply with a simple “Sure thing” on a Sunday.

I tell you that it’s a joke and asked you if you were okay.

You return to your usual self and something feels off but I don’t question it on a Sunday.

You say that it’s nice to see my soft side under the insults and if you’re feeling down you’d tell me and I should do the same… even though I didn’t believe that last part. Remember the chapstick thing?

You return to your “Good Morning’s” and you message me fire emojis concerning my new haircut on a Tuesday.

We’re finally at that level of normalcy, it seems. Seattle “You” is nice, he replies in the same day and everything.

It’s Independence Day in America and you tell me to “Stay Safe” twice that day on a Tuesday.

How can I stay safe when you’re literally killing me?

You told me you wanted to read or listen to my songs on a Friday.

I started freaking out… I was so happy that you wanted to hear one.

You said that your friend opened the snapchat conversation and closed it without saving the paragraph messages on a Friday.

This is the message with my excitement for you to hear one of my songs. This definitely feels like the excuse side of you.

I reply to you like I did the last time and for the first time that week, you don’t reply at all in a day on a Saturday.

Something is wrong but I don’t think twice about it, it’s only been a day— you’ve left me hanging for longer in the past.

It’s your birthday on a Sunday.

You still haven’t responded to my messages but I remembered your birthday and wanted to wish you a happy birthday.

You respond to my happy birthday message in a few hours on a Sunday.

You’re coming back home from Seattle this day and you tell me you’ll respond to my other messages later when you get service in the airport… *sarcasm on* when have you ever lied about that before?

You leave me on read on a Sunday.

I think nothing about it because for the hundredth time I again believe you when you say a lie because why would you deceive me? You know I have anxiety.

You comment on the senior pictures I posted on my story on a Wednesday.

At this point, I’m truly pissed off at you and I don’t hide my sass because literally the message of you lying, saying that you would reply to my messages later is right above “the senior pictures” message. You knew that you would be blatantly lying to me, you never were planning to respond to that message, were you? Home “You” is back to being a jerk.

We have a back and forth conversation of insults on a Thursday.

I’m tired and I figure if we’re just insulting each other it won’t hurt me as much if any second now you would leave me on read.

You annoy me to a point where I tell you about this song: Reflection, that tells you about how I feel about you (not realistically) on a Friday.

You say that it’s adorable (… really adorable?) that I feel this way and I questioned whether you actually understood the song.

You said that you know me well enough to know if I’m lying or not on a Saturday.

That pissed me off because you’re so cocky that you think you know so much about me when you haven’t even scratched the surface. I know if I said that exact same thing to you, you would mock me.

I tell you, “You think you know me that well? That’s cute” on a Saturday.

And you leave me on read amongst other messages I sent you but I know I didn’t hurt you… your ego is too big to be hurt.

I hear a song on Monday.

It gave me hope after you left me on read because you’ve said before that you don’t like when I say “End of the story.”

You send me a message 13 days later responding to my story on a Saturday.

And honestly, your message wasn’t worth any wait.

Somehow we’re having a conversation on a Monday.

But it’s not a real one… it’s just the back and forth again. But talking to you is better than not talking to you and having anxiety.

You come for my shortness on a Monday.

You say being short is an advantage (which I already knew lol) and that I could use it in my favor if my crush likes short girls… which is ironic because you’re just talking about yourself.

I respond to you for the last time unbeknownst to me that things would change on a Friday.

Ironically we were talking about you not being able to handle it if I stopped talking to you and how I had a trap on you over our friendship and you couldn’t get out.

On your story you put, “I only wish I kissed you in the rain” on a Friday.

My dumb ass actually thinks it’s me. Because it either rained/drizzled whenever we hung out.

My friend asks you who it’s about on a Friday.

You respond with, “My girlfriend lol” and everything seems like a game now… it all feels like a lie.

Talking to my friends saves me on a late Friday night/early Saturday morning.

Because if they weren’t there I would’ve thrown up my dinner.

You respond to my Friday texts on a Sunday.

But you send them late in the night so I can wait to respond to them the next day.

I open your messages on a Monday.

And this is a time of firsts. I leave you on read for once. I think of myself for once. I want to protect my heart for once.


It’s been 14 days since we stopped talking. I don’t know if it’s phasing you or not. I don’t even know if you’ve noticed. You lost focus… but now that you have a her I don’t know what to think or hope for anymore.

I actually thought I was special to you. I thought our whole story, this back and forth, everything.. it would all be worth it in the end. But it’s not. You played me. You played with my heart. I don’t care what anyone says, maybe that’s just how you are with friends… If that’s the case I’m not sure if I can be your friend.

Maybe there’s a reason this happened a second time… maybe I wasn’t supposed to start over again. Because here I am at square one all over again. But this time. I know, for sure, it’s not my fault.

There’s nothing more I want to do than talk to you… but why? To tell you the truth? You would probably respond with awww and we’ll be at that awkward stage again. Just so I can be your friend? I can’t. To see if you care about me? I can’t take any more jumps or chances for you to try to know what you’re feeling… I’ll never know. And I already know, you are half-hearted when it comes to me and you barely care. All those times you left me on read, left me hanging on a Monday, hurt my feelings… it never phased you because you didn’t care.

It wouldn’t matter if you knew you hurt me. If it did… if it does, where are you now?

Nobody is probably going to read this whole thing. I wouldn’t even want to if I wasn’t part of it. Because it’s so crazy, the ups and downs, it would make anyone want to rip their hair out… I don’t know how I haven’t done that yet.

It’s tiring. 

One day, you asked me what was wrong, in person, and I told you that I was tired. You asked me how long I slept that night. I told you I’m not physically tired but mentally tired. And amongst the other reasons (school, fake friends, anxiety, etc.) one of the reasons I was tired was because of my feelings for you.

And for these past few weeks it was like I pretended that everything you’ve done wasn’t real, my mind wasn’t able to comprehend everything so I just didn’t accept it… that’s the only way I could accept it, ironically. But typing all of this up and realizing how real it is…

One of my friends told me that she lied to me saying she stopped talking to her crush and it made her feel better. She told me this lie so that I would stop talking to you and she said she was sorry but she had to say it because “he was hurting you way more than my own crush (who’s a real douchebag) was hurting me.

And I realized. You were hurting me a lot. But I kept letting you hurt me. For the sake and hope of my heart. And in the end… it didn’t even work out. It wasn’t worth it. You were falling for a girl whilst I was falling for you deeper.

During those both hangouts. With my head on your shoulder. With your hand around my waist. While you brushed my hair behind my ear. 

You were playing with me.

And I can’t forgive you for that.

I can’t.

I’m writing this about you on a Monday.

And no matter how much I want to talk to you or want to hope for a message from you, I know it won’t be good for me.

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Fake Friends and Forgiveness

So this might not be like a new experience story because of course, I see some of my old fake “friends” all the time.

And my interaction with her isn’t haunting me and I’m not overthinking it. I actually considered not writing about this because it’s not really a big deal to me and I don’t want to make it bigger than it actually is.

It’s not the interaction itself but how I reacted in the mere second I saw her.

I feel like you should have some background on this fake friend. We became friends freshmen year and I actually thought she would stick around for a while. Of course, our relationship wasn’t perfect no relationship ever is. But I never thought that there would be months that we wouldn’t talk to each other or instances where we see each other in school and act like we weren’t close. Or at least she acts like we weren’t close.

But honestly, it’s not like she was an amazing friend to me. In my sophomore year, (my current worst year in high school) I sat with her at lunch because my best friend didn’t have the same lunch period as me and I was still kind of a newbie to high school so I didn’t really have any other friends. There were days where it was shocking when she came to lunch or she told me where she was at lunch. She just left me some days to sit at a table alone. One of these instances involved her sister seeing me and telling her that I was alone which then made her call me near the end of lunch and tell me that she was in the library. She never even told me she was in the library in the first place, only after her sister saw me alone. A pity call.

That was literally the worst period of my life. I thought I wasn’t worth enough to even be accompanied at lunch.

But our friendship kept going (on snapchat) because I tend to forgive and forget. But then she started hanging out with other people and finding her “real” friends. It always felt weird seeing her snapchat stories of her having fun and doing so many things while I sat at home with anxiety. It didn’t feel weird it felt like crap. But to see her with all those friends?

What was so wrong with me? Why did she want to throw me away like I was a useless piece of garbage?

In December, I don’t remember who talked first but it happened and the conversation lasted for days. I tried hard to talk to her even in times when I could feel that she didn’t want to talk to me. Even in times when her replies shouldn’t have deserved anything more. But I didn’t want to just leave her on read and let whatever our friendship was to come to a definite stop. It was honestly nice to talk to her again. It felt like old times.

But it didn’t last.

Nowadays, I barely think of her (except of course when I’m checking that dumb, needy app) but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt. I even find myself not being able to look at her story because of my hurt feelings.

Back to the present. I see her when I go to my fifth period out of nowhere. I can’t really avoid her or pretend I didn’t see her because the hallway is pretty empty and she already caught my eye. She smiles and seems excited and opens her arms for a hug. I don’t really know what

I don’t really know what happened in that moment. When I hugged her, it didn’t seem fake on my part. When I smiled at her, it felt fake at first and then it felt genuine. Then she said a joke about my smallness and I retorted back a joke.

I tried to be hurt. I tried to be fake. But it didn’t work. I was real. My smile didn’t feel fake.

Maybe it’s because everything happened in seconds and it wasn’t even a long interaction, but how I reacted is bothering me.

I always forgive and forget so easily.

I forgave and forget all the crap that Phoenix has put me through, but that’s partially because I have feelings for him so I can’t really allow him into the circle.

But why do I always forgive and forget? Even if that person doesn’t deserve forgiveness?

After that interaction, neither one of us is going to reach out to the other. So why did I feel the need to be genuine with her?

Why wasn’t I able to give her a fake smile? Why wasn’t I able to give her a fake hug? I mean I know I’m capable of it. I always fake smile whenever a family relative criticizes my weight (like it’s any of their business).

Is it weird that I want to be fake? It’s not really that I want to be fake but the fact that in literally a mere second I was able to forgive someone who made me feel like crap is bothering me. I was able to forgive someone who I wasted so much of my time and energy on. I was able to forgive someone who made me question my self-worth.

And I don’t like that.

Because there have been instances where all I do is forgive people… no there haven’t been instances— it’s my whole life. It’s my life where all I do is forgive people for hurting me.

Why?

Because I don’t want to make it into this big thing. I don’t want to be “overdramatic.” I don’t want to make them feel uncomfortable. I mean our thoughts are way way way deeper than life actually is. If life was tv, our thoughts would be a soap-opera drama while our real lives would be a comedy. I don’t want to make the situation worse than it actually is.

I don’t really feel like my feelings are acceptable. Yes, it would be worse if I held onto most things and had grudges.

But I don’t want to keep getting hurt. I don’t want to keep forgiving someone so much to a point where I’m losing a piece of myself. If I keep forgiving people who don’t deserve to be forgiven for what they did to me, what does that make me?

A good, forgiving person who had the company of someone who saw me as “not enough.”

Because even if I’m the one who keeps forgiving. The other person is still the one who is 100% unfazed of hurting me. They are still the person who has lost nothing. They are the person who “got rid of garbage.”

I know this from experience: If I keep forgiving and forgiving one person all they’re going to keep doing is continually hurt me. I can’t let that into my life. I don’t want to.

Honestly, I’m doing that right now where I’m constantly forgiving someone who continually makes my mind hurt from all the overthinking. And it sucks.

It’s really not fair when it comes to fake friends and just fake people in general. You give them literally your all and all they can give you is nothing but pain and hurt and a piece of your heart missing.

It’s funny. You would think that once a fake person is out of your life everything is great: the sky is clearer and your headspace is better. But in a sense, it’s worse. Because whether you want to admit it or not— they took a piece of you. A piece that took you a long time to make.

A piece that you can never get back.

You try so hard. Some days, you might even fool yourself that it’s okay and you’ve forgotten all about the person and all they’ve done to you. But all it can take is one mere second for you to realize that it’s not okay.

And in that second you should realize: Yes, my feelings do matter. Yes, I am worth it but they are not worth my time. Yes, they did take a piece of me but I got a lesson from them.

Be honest with yourself. Use your feelings. I know, trust me, I know that there are times when you don’t want to be open and vulnerable with someone. Or you might not want to make something into a big deal.

But it’s better talking about it and forgiving the person because you’ve talked about it instead of forgiving the issue yourself because you feel bad for having feelings.

You’re human. Don’t bully yourself because you are and the other person tends to forget that. Things hurt you, things that the other person might not see as hurtful. But that doesn’t make it okay.

Things hurt you, things that the other person might not see as hurtful. But that doesn’t make it okay.

No one will ever know you better than yourself and if someone is hurting you and you’re questioning if that hurt is “acceptable,” it is. Only you know all you’ve been through. You’re feeling that way because of the past and you don’t want whatever’s haunting you to come true (maybe for the first time or to come true again). The other person doesn’t know all you’ve been through. All the anger, sadness, and pain.

You’ve been through a lot and don’t take away all that development away to just shun your feelings in the end. They are 100% acceptable and will always be.

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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.