did you delete your pictures of us because you saw that I did?
Did my doing that make you mad? Was it revenge?
Did you do it because you wanted them down? Because my disgusting face is just too much?
Or did you do it for the same reason I did?
Because seeing us together tied your stomach in tight knots that threatened to rip themselves out of your body….
Because seeing me so close to you once upon a time ago make you utterly frustrated in what has happened to us now?
Because seeing my face was too hard for you? Made you want to break down and scream and cry all at the same time?
With my luck, it’s because you detest me.
Which is suppose to be fine..
My Best Friends & I by Karen L. Schenk
Throughout the years I have had many different girls and women as my best friends. They have all been very different from each other. Yet somehow they have all been similar. They had characteristics that blended with mine. They were kindred spirits with me –they were truly the soulmates of my life.
Together, these best friends and I have laughed, cared, talked, listened, and cried. Together we played, worked, and dreamed. Such special friends were they, that at times, we enjoyed doing nothing together. Years have gone by and I sometimes wonder where they have all gone. Some have moved. Some developed different interests. These were friends whom I once thought I could never live without.
The best friends of my life have had an integral part in me becoming who I am today. They brought out the best and the worst in me. They loved me enough to confront, to challenge and to console. They encouraged me in my strengths and helped me overcome my weaknesses.
Though I know not where they live, have discovered where they all left something for me. It is a room — a delightful room which lies within my heart.
It is one of my most favorite places. I go there when I am lonely, sad or when I want to remember… and be with the treasured golden memories the best friends of my life left for me.
Forever — my friends will be a part of me as I hold onto and cherish them in that special room in my heart.
Rose colored glasses.
I enjoy being a being with a mind so complex that it fools me almost all the time in the most inconspicuous ways.
I think I am through, and then the thought of you brings me intense nausea.
Not the kind of nausea one gets when they’re between a land fill and a hard place..
It’s the kind brought on by the sight of seeing a loved one in a pain that you cannot relieve.. Or when you stand in front of a crowd, unnevered, uncomfortable, and unprepared for the weight of two hundred eyes.
I usually feel an aray of emotions.. And that nausea only comes in times of intense pressure for my sympathetic nervous system.. And when I think of seeing you.
What’s amusing about your refusal to speak to me is that it is almost a relief.. A part of me wants nothing more than to lay eyes on you and have proof that you were not a figment of my imagination.. That I’m not completely insane for missing someone who must’ve been there before. I want to hug you and be quiet and just be glad that it is happening.
And part of me feels like I would throw up immediately after knowing you were in the room. That if you hugged me I might just barf all over you and make the reunion extremely awkward.
My imagination has yet to go past the idea of that, but I know that I’m not ready to see you.
I almost feel like I never will be.
I rather keep my insides intact and your clothes clean, I rather not make a fuss (or mess) in public.
I would rather.. I would rather let go.
It hurts to admit.
I feel guilty for being tired and for wanting to stop being in limbo.
I feel sick because you’re not.
If I let go.. It makes it ok for you to have.
And it has not felt ok.
It feels wrong.
My life feels incomplete.
I feel stupid for feeling this way, and when I don’t I feel stupid for not thinking of you like you were my most beloved friend.
So oftentimes I don’t know how to feel,
And feel ill instead.
I would rather have you than anything.
But I have to accept that I can no longer be selfish with you baby…
I have to want your happiness, above anything else.
Above your small eyes and comforting voice.
Above your sarcasm and irregular taste in things I’m too boring to get into.
Above your familiar smell and beautiful words.
Above everything we’ve done and wanted to do together.
I have to let you go.
It hurts so badly!!!! Haha!!
I can’t believe it….
But I have to because you’re starting to fade and I cannot catch a burning fallen star, made ash.
You are the sand in my fingers.
I couldn’t hold on if I tried!
And I tried.
What a sad and beautiful and important lesson, my dearest friend.
There is something particularly disappointing about disappointing the person that you love, that loves you back.
It’s the way his eyes drop when he thinks of your failure.
It’s the tone and octave of his dejected spirit speaking when his heart is bursting silently and obnoxiously with pain.
It’s the protective touch that he has temporarily adopted, the strength he asserts in his movements and voice when he says your name.
It’s the way you can tell that in his forcefulness, there is intense fear.
It’s the way he kisses you, softly and gently, like he can tell he has been gripping on too harshly and must balance out his possessiveness, lest you slip away from him once again.
It’s the way making love feels.
It’s the way holding hands feels.
It’s the pain in your stomach and chest when you run together, when for some brief seconds he gains the lead, and you find the strength to keep going because you will follow him to the finish line, just like you would follow him to hell.
It’s the way he sleeps.
The way he curls up like a child, and turns for some hours into an adolescent boy, vulnerable and perfect.
The way his breath tickles your neck and the weight of his arms crushing you in his uninhibited sleep.
These moments we see our partners for who they were born as and who they will die as.
These moments, your selfishness is your greatest enemy, and you understand what it means to take on a great responsibility.
You learn what it means to have someone precious to protect.
In those moments where he is innocence personified, I am made into a soldier of love.
He is my kingdom.
He is what makes me penetrable.
He is what reminds me of my own humanity,
And why the sun rises to set.
He is daybreak.
He is sundown.
He is twilight.
He is the burning ice released by the tired comet.
He is the calm before the bomb, released in a moment.
He is the light lent to the moon by the sun.
He is nothing, he is all, and he is everyone.
He is this very moment, just begun.