don’t you feel like you have so much more you want to say and so many things you want to do but you can’t because you’re afraid, of yourself, of others, of whatever? your mind is electric, chaotic, dark and constantly spinning with the world and everything it contains. you dance all by yourself because you’re scared no one other than yourself will want to see it. on the outside you seem confident and sure of yourself, you smile wide, your eyes are full of light and yet there is so much left unsaid, so much brewing and festering underneath that you’re surprised no one can sense it. you’re surrounded by people yet you feel alone, like you’re an anomaly in your own life. you’re different from everyone else and there are parts of you no one will understand, like you’re on a different level. funny thing is, you can blend in quite well. you like people and people like you. it pretty much leaves you lost in a crowd of people that you love and care about. once the distraction of enjoying their company wears off and you’re left alone at night, in the dark, in the thick of silence, there’s nothing but you and yourself to drown in your own self-pity and confusion.
I know it was wrong. I know that what I did was an absolute betrayal to my fiance who has been nothing but good to me. He helped me when I needed it, he made me laugh til my stomach was sore, he always listeneded to me, because that’s how he is, he is nurturing and sweet and everything any girl could want. He has his flaws but he was 110% faithful. Now he’s overseas helping his ailing father while I’m here, with you…really with you, and not even three days after he left. I know that what I did was disguting. Keeping this hidden from you and allowing this go on is probably the worst thing I’ve ever done, but in spite of all that…I don’t regret it at all. If the clocks were rewinded, I would have done it all over again, the same exact way. I could not physically have it any other way because something happened that day, you…you did something to me. You got under my skin and I had to have you. Whatever it was, I can’t explain it, I can only feel it. My mother always said that some things in life you can’t explain, and it should be left that way. The more you try and put words to it, the more you’ll drive yourself insane, so just let it be and feel it, enjoy it…just let it be.
When you walked up right beside me and I turned to look at you, the only thing I could think was, “Wow”. Just wow. It was your smile. It wasn’t cheesy or contrived, it was genuine and warm and I loved the way you looked at me. And then you were telling me about this book in my hand that I only picked up to grab the book underneath. You had me then because I immediately wanted to buy it and devour it just so I could have a conversation with you about it. I had let so many opportunities slip through my fingers in my life because of my own insecurities. I’m not one who takes charge or is strong, that’s not usually who I am. But that day I thought, how could I possibly let you go? I’m not going to let things go anymore, how many “what ifs” can I pile up before I suffocate in my own fears?
You should have let me go that day. That was the right thing to do. After our conversation, you should have just bought your book and went on your merry way. You should have let me walk out that door, a fond memory to look back on on days you felt nostalgic. I would keep you warm for a moment before you feel asleep. But that’s all I should have been, a ghost. A mere flicker in your long, robust life. I should have been inconsequential, a vague standalone thought, no connection to any other part of your life. But it’s too late now, because we are entwined and none of this can be undone. What have you done? What have you done to me? I won’t try to explain it, I’ll just feel it, as you say. And feel it I do. Every inch of me, every day, all the time and it won’t stop. I am enraptured by you. But it is wrong and if I could rewind the clocks, I would have never approched you. Alas, this is a pure impossibility and all I feel is the warmth of you inside me and the white hot anger I feel towards you. What am I to do?
What would it be like to admire beauty freely and openly, without hiding behind a screen or engaging in secret conversations with the one or two people that know about my affinity for women? What kind of lightness would be bestowed upon me to meet a pretty girl who likes reading and swearing as much as I do in a cozy bar without the constant prick of worry that someone who knows someone I know might see us? How much kinder and gentler would my soul be if I could have someone to lie on a kingsized bed with, lost in a sea of plush pillows and comfy blankets? How many more smiles would form on my face if I had someone to run my fingers up and down their arms on, softly caressing their skin, so pretty and smooth? What would it be like to finally be free?
I’m gay. Who knew that two words, six letters could mean so much. Who knew that these words could carry such impact. Do you know the severity of this simple statement? For me, it means freedom, a liberation that I’ve sought for years. The lightness of being myself. For me, it means hate and discrinmination, it means fear. These words carry with it the pain and heartache of all those who are different, those who were afraid to be honest to themselves and to others because of the consequences. They give voice to those who are silent, not because they want to be, but because they feel like if they vocalize their truth, because if they give in to the expression of self, they will be persecuted and they will be abandoned by those who they love most.
See, when you hide for so long, you get accustomed to it. The thought of finally exposing who you are, it’s frightening. You’re not used to being so vulnerable, your heart and flesh now become open to scrutiny and now it’s easier for people to hurt you with their words, their abandonment, their coldness. But at some point, the weight becomes too much to carry. Your back and shoulders start to give out and your heart becomes heavy with pain. You’re tired and you wonder how many tears you have left to cry. You wonder how many more nights you can spend drowning in your own thoughts. You wonder where you can find the strength to keep yourself from going over the edge of madness. At some point something’s got to give. For some, that means ending it all and putting a permanent halt on the future. A gun, a cliff, a rope, a bottle of pills. There is so much choice for the lonely soul. I have never thought of harming myself or taking my life, so I am one of the lucky ones. Yes, despite all of the crippling loneliness I’ve felt, despite the burning desire to be wrapped up in the warmth of someone that I could call my own while everyone around me is parading with their partners hand in hand, despite crying endless tears in spite of myself and feeling pathetic, despite having to endure the hateful words of loved ones that unknowingly cut me into pieces with their ignorance and bigotry, despite feeling helpless and hopeless, I am still one of the lucky ones. Because despite all of that darkness, there was still light.
I am constantly wishing for the past, but the past me wished for the future. And the future me will echo similar sentiments. That’s the song that we all sing isn’t it? Now is never enough, the past is what we yearn for, the future if what we strive towards. Onward into the unknown, into something we hope is better than this. And it continues.
Verbal repetitions and reverberations rattle inside my skull and bring me to the edge of madness. I have to remind myself to remain composed. I have to continue thinking with logic and common sense, yet I continue living in fear when I, and I alone, hold the power to put a stop to my agony. Where’s the logic in that?
Saturday night, a time often reserved for hedonistic pleasures and eager partygoing. Indeed, I am a regular participant in these festivities, but not tonight. Tonight, I let the quiet stillness strike me down and help me find the right words to say.
I could have gone out and drank until I succumbed to the haziness and became numb enough to forget, if only for tonight. The few hours of freedom that tonight could have granted me would have been nice. Freedom from my thoughts, my feelings, the overwhelming urge to cry because I have no other way to physically express what’s deep down inside of me. Freedom from myself.
I imagine completely giving myself to the loud music thumping against the walls of a club, my heart beating fast, quickly pumping blood through my veins, dancing as if no one was watching. Tonight, tonight, tonight. I’ve had many of those, and thank goodness for that.
It’s on those nights that I can keep the pain and heartache at bay, replacing it with friendship, family and laughter, but it never lasts long. Eventually I just become tired again, defeated, deflated. The emptiness creeps on me, tirelessly and surely. But I am powerless to stop it so instead I welcome it warmly and with open arms, just as I would an old friend.
It’s moments like these, when I am completely alone in my house, sitting on my couch, crouching in front of my laptop that I feel the weight of it all. It’s only me and the silence and nothing is stopping me from thinking. Too much thinking, in fact.
Many will write or speak words of hopelessness and pain, but won’t know why they feel the way that they do. They have everything but feel nothing. Or perhaps they feel something is missing in their hearts, a hope for something more even with their nice house, fancy car, loving spouse, good friends and so on and so forth. But I know what’s wrong. I know the reason that I cry myself to sleep, or in the shower, or after a night out with friends when only an hour before I was throwing my head back, the walls reverberating with laughter. I know what is putting this constant weight on my chest.
I wonder to myself, How much longer can I hold onto this fear? How long will I wait for my life to start? How many more tears will I have to cry before I run out? When will I take control of my own life and allow myself to be truly happy? When will I finally find the courage to say, “Hey World, I’m gay, and there’s nothing wrong with that”?
It won’t matter if you spend your whole life trying to get to know somebody. It’ll be a fruitless endeavor. One way or another, they’ll find a way to shock you and turn your world upside down. You won’t see it coming, but they’ll sneak up on you and you’ll realise that this person whom you love, someone who claimed to have cared about you, will have fucked you over in ways you could not have fathomed. It could be your best friend. Your lover. Your own father. It doesn’t matter. Pick someone that means something to you and expect them to hurt you.
A heaviness in my heart, a constant weight pushing down on me, suffocating me
I posted this three times tonight and had three people tell me that I helped save their life. Thank you to those people who have decided to struggle through to let us enjoy the gift of one more day of their prescence gracing us all. I hope that you all reblog this, to save another few. Because we all dserve another chance and hope in life. I went to the hospital 6 times before I decided to keep my life but I hope none of you suffer that much. And I hope you all can make that scary, seemingly painful, blind, hoping, wonderful step to live.
I want to help you in any way I can. ANYTHING. I mean it. If I had had someone stay with me and text me or talk to me all night, just one time, it would have changed my life. I know how hard those nights can be.
^I love this girl more than words can express.
foundmywaywheniwaslost: I am always here if anyone ever needs to talk/vent. You have a purpose, Please Stay Alive. <3
Not just for tonight but for the rest of your life. You have so much to look forward to in the future that if you choose to kill yourself, it will be the biggest mistake of your life. You’re going to miss out on people you’ll never be able to meet, kids you’ll never have, a partner to love or partys to go to. There’s just too much that you’ll miss out on. You deserve and have the right to be here as much as the person next to you does. You’re just a drop in the ocean. You were meant to be here and you have a purpose. Don’t ever forget that. And if you feel like you don’t, just believe in yourself because you do. If you ever feel worthless or like shit, know that I love you and those dicks that tell you shit are jealous that you’re who you are because there’s something about you that they wish they could have. Please stay strong and never give up because things DO GET BETTER.
3rd time I reblog this xx
Keep your self awake, I hope your here to stay. This day is not yet over, let me be your four leaf clover.
Reblogged it and queued it so it’ll post tomorrow too. And the next day and the next so I hope I can save someone. We all love you.
someone messaged me this morning saying it helped and thanked me, so im reblogging this again, and queuing it. stay strong guys.
I reblog this whenever I see it. If you don’t reblog it, unfollow me right now. If you don’t care enough to put this simple picture on your blog, I’m judging you.
The very first time that I reblogged this, I had someone message me the next day saying that because of me, they didn’t kill themself. From then on whenever I see anything like this on Tumblr it’s an instant reblog for me. After receiving that message it just changed something in me. Whenever anyone I see on my dash is having thoughts of self-harm or even suicide, I automatically go to their page and offer them even just an ear to listen. Nearly all of them I receive messages back from saying that they are grateful, and they end up sharing their story with me, and in return I give them advice as best I can. Several of them have said that their lives have gotten much better because they opened up and sought out help.
Out of those people, I’d say at least 5 have even gone so far as to say that they didn’t kill themself because of me. That is, I kid you not, the best feeling in the world.
I needed this reminder.
I wonder all the time whether you truly loved us or not. Is this what you wanted? Was you dying wish to leave us with no money and make us suffer? Are you happy now? Do you feel good know that I hate you? I don’t know what to think anymore. I keep going back and forth between the good memories I have of you and all the the pain and heartache you caused. What kind of man are you? What have you done? You’re a pathetic excuse for a father, but somehow I don’t believe that that’s entirely true. You have done so much for us. You were always there. But nothing is ever that simple is it? I guess I never really knew you at all. I wish I could ask you all these questions and I wish I could get an answer. I hope that you will appear in my dreams and I can ask you why you’ve done what you’ve done. I want to see if you have any shame, if you ever cared. I am so angry at you I want to scream. One day I’m afraid I’ll snap and do something stupid.
How dare you do this to us? Of all the things you could have left us with in your passing, of all the fucking things, you left us with this pile of shit. How could you? I can’t believe it. I never would have thought that this would happen. But if I’ve learned anything in my 23 years of life, you never know what can happen. People will surprise you. And you certainly did. I try to hold on to the faith that there could be an explanation for all this and that you were in fact innocent, but that is nearly impossible to believe. Can you hear my thoughts? Can you read everything that I write? I really hope you know how I feel. I need to believe that you know what I think. I feel like there is no one who I can really release all my feelings to. Not mom, because let’s face it, for me having a conversation with her is fucking hard to do sometimes. I either get angry or really irritated with her. Not sister because she’s not the best at listening. She doesn’t really like talking about this, she tends to push it away a lot, which fucking annoys me. Not anyone because it’s actually hard for me to fully express how I feel. Sometimes the words don’t come out because I don’t know how to start and because there’s so much to say.
So wherever you are, I wonder if you are happy that we are suffering. Stressed, angry, sad, confused, helpless. You did this. Thank you, thank you for being someone who was supposed to be our protector but turned out to be the opposite. This is the legacy you left. If all of this is true, then I am ashamed to be your daughter. The piece of my heart you cut out, it’s not yours, understand that. You may have caused this pain, but if you really intended for all this, then I am no longer a part of you. In life and in death. You can rest with that heartless, fucked up family of yours.
I often feel frustrated, like no one really understands the full depth of who I am. I don’t mean it to sound whiny and self-important, it is mainly my fault. I’m scared to express a lot of what I feel and my thoughts, which might come as a surprise. I’m outgoing and love to meet new people. I love having conversations that feed my curiosity about people and their experiences in life. But sometimes I still feel like that painfully shy little girl in kindergarten who was so afraid of people that she wouldn’t speak a word in class. Although I like to talk now, there are just some things I can’t bring myself to say. It’s ironic isn’t it?
There is one person I feel that understands me in a way that no one else can. We’re so different yet the same and we understand each other on a different level. It’s hard to explain. I guess you can only understand if you have this kind of relationship yourself. Anyway, the problem with this particular person is that I think I may be in love with her (I still can’t figure out if it’s love or something close to it, I don’t think love is a word you throw around lightly). And I’m also a her. And therein lies one of my biggest problems. My biggest secret is that I’m not straight, although there are people who already know without me having to say anything. I won’t elaborate because I’ve done that so many fucking times on this blog that even I’m starting to get sick of writing about it, I just can’t stop. If I could just bring myself to tell her that I’m gay the I feel like I could tell her practically anything (aside from the fact that I have feelings for her), and she would be my ‘person’. But I can’t, not because she’s homophobic, but because it will be that much harder for her to deny how I feel. I’m quite sure she knows but she just pushes it away because it’s a hard pill to swallow. Although part of me thinks that she has some feelings for me too.
Although no one has even come close to her, there is this one other person that I shared a connection that was on a different level than anyone else, at the time, I felt like he understood me in a way that no one else could. We talked a lot over MSN (oh the good old days) and obviously in person, but when you chat with someone online sometimes you say things that you don’t have the courage to say face to face. We were very good friends. Until he started having feelings for me. I guess I broke his heart. I should have had more compassion, I didn’t understand why he was acting distant and why he couldn’t just get over it. I has selfish thoughts like, yeah I understand that he likes me and it’s hard to be friends, but what about me? I’m losing a friend. He changed, and I know it wasnt all because of me, but i guess it had something to do with it. But now I understood how he felt and how much it hurts. At the time I never knew what it felt to want someone so much it hurt, to have them consume your thoughts to the point of insanity. Up until a year ago I never found someone that made me feel like that, until I met the girl. He and I don’t talk much at all anymore, every few months. Most days he never even crosses my mind, but now and then he does and I think how much of a shame it was to let our friendship die. I never thought it would, I honestly thought it would go on forever. But I was naive.