People : Why are you not together anymore, I thought you were back together just a few weeks ago?
My answer : He’s not sure about what he wants in life and it just makes me crazy. I couldn’t stand it anymore.
The truth : I love him more than he does.
(read previous line again)
When I was younger, I was told that there is too much inside of me. That I have feelings where others have bone. At the age of seven, a doctor tapped inside my head and asked, “Do you choke on memories from time to time? Do you cry for no good reason at all? Do words take a hammer to your head and crack your skull?” Yes, yes, yes, I nodded. “Then you’ve definitely got them,” he said, as he checked off a box on his list. “Too many feelings. What a shame. Try not to keep them inside or you’ll drown.”
For awhile, I tried to follow his advice by pouring my feelings into boys’ mouthes until I was numb to the memory of ever being over-filled. I let myself go weak in their arms and became a hickey-covered exhale. But no matter how many times I offered my mouth like a flower to be plucked, the feelings spurted from my chest and soaked whoever came close in words.
I tried to expel my feelings by punching them out of my throat and using ink to exorcise them from my chest, but still, they covered me in tear-stained scars and left me to whither alone in the back of bars. Still, they had me running towards strangers’ cars, asking them if they knew how I could rid myself of my weak heart.
Finally, having had enough, I took a train outside my hometown to shed everything I cared about. On a grey beach, I dumped all of the feelings which threatened to keep me from living normally. Then came the moment when I had to decide if I would rather be liked or be who I am-too sensitive, too quiet, too honest, too burdened. And still undecided, I have not opened my mouth since.Staying Silent Until I’m Certain | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)
I am not a toy you can pick up and play with when you feel like it only to abandon it after the first cracks.
I am not a dream that you chase and then abandon again and again in order to feel alive.
I am not a necessity that needs to be met in order to fill out the whole in your life that will allow the other gaps to be filled as well.
I am a soul. Bound to you by all the possible ways.
Our human nature, the limited words of our languages, the fragility of our hopes, the strenghts of our precedent deceits, the longing for a better life, the fear of regect. All humans endure it, why did we let it all limit us to a state of almost and maybes?
Why do we still let it?