I remember when everything was okay. I remember when we were happy. But like every flame we burn out. Like every spirit we die. I am not sure anymore. You know how some days you’re so happy it is too perfect. Then the days you just know it won’t be okay. What days are more meaningful? The happy ones obviously because bad days happen; or is it that ye bad ones say a lot. Glads half empty; glass half full. Perspective is key
You know whats not okay ? The way i feel right now. The way every girl on earth has felt many times today. Feeling like they aren’t good enough. No woman does. insecurity. It eats you alive from the inside out; Literally. It begins with vague commentary. That comment eats at her for just a moment. She will smile though it and maybe even let it faint into her distant memories. You didn’t even realize you did this to her; you might not have even realized you caused this.
And now the process escalates this evening when she looks in the mirror and walks away because she can’t see the beauty staring back at her. Then tonight laying in bed; the commentary seeps into her thoughts. what starts as a dribble explodes into a flood. she lie up thinking ’ how can i be better? ’ she doesn’t know what to do. she knows she is one of the pretty girls. she has done everything she knows of to make herself more attractive to the socialist eye. harmful chemicals, painful body modifications. paint. hours of classes educations herself in the art of artificial beauty. With every upgrade, 15 minutes of fame ends. Another upgrade becomes necessary. Much like your iPhone or your automobile she requires upgrades. She is dehumanized.
But for day two; she awakes early to perform her morning ritual of pampering her body and making herself and picture perfect as possible. she paints her face with makeup. she looks the same as normal. she may be the same. She is stunning and everyone knows it. She walks into the room and friendly people greet her; and then instantly anxiety starts to build. she is looking around the room frantically trying to find the source of the antagonism. Likely no one has even thought about her yet. echoing that thought, no one here really cares for her. Discomfort sets in. suddenly she isn’t in a room of friends and accentuates but crowded by judgmental strangers. She starts to guess what people around her could be thinking. All her flaws spill out,one after another. her insecurities are eating her alive. She is sad. she is overwhelmed. she is stressed and doesnt feel good enough.
she is skipping her meals already, her clothing size is dropping. I am starting to see her bones. shes depressed! she needs help but you cant help her. you think you can, The medications and the drugs can only help so much. even shes scared in there. she loves to be alone, though she needs a companion. everybody needs companionship. Companionship has become her phobia. This beautiful girl in downing and tearing herself up because she isnt sexy enough… pretty enough… and why ? Because a simple comment someone made about her… got her thinking about….. her….
Sometimes shit happens and you don’t know how to feel about it. There are so many angles you can look at things from. Everyone sees themselves as the victim. They never see themselves to be in the wrong. How could you ever be wrong right ? It’s not possible to be wrong when you can only see things from one mind set. You have to open your mind. Open up to point of view. Everyone is probably feeling hurt and abused .
I remember when we would crawl into bed not for the bed but for the companionship. Now it’s like lying alone with supervision.
What do you do when it all starts to fall apart? At the first sign of damage you grab some tape or used chewing gum and rig something up quickly. You know the temporary fix will only hold for so long. Soon it will be time to make a decision; to repair-or replace… Repair takes tender care and precious time. Repair takes patience. Replace is easy. Scrap the old and go shopping. Something’s you can just toss out and replace at a later date. Sometimes that things has sentimental value and you can’t just scrap it; you have to nurture it back to health like a dove with a broken wing. You need more extensive tools; you must surpass chewing gum and tape and bring out the true first aid kit. If you love something dearly enough you will manage to keep it close by forever. No matter what damages it faces if it’s desperately sentimental; if it is true love: it will be in your possession forever.
Again and again. So sure I broke the cycle; but now I confess to jumping back into the current. I jumped into the stream above the waterfall I just climbed. In control at first but in just a matter of seconds I was swept away in the rapids. Now I have plumaged. I cannot see; I cannot breath; I cannot move. Now what ? I am sinking. Desperate to save my own life. It’s not just about keeping myself alive anymore; it’s who needs me alive.
Reblogging this everyday so when I reblog porn people don’t unfollow me
I love this.
A relationship is like a fire; And we are the cave men- So ignorant and venerable. It’s cold in that cave all alone; warmth is a necessity. So we look desperately in the mirror for the tools to creat that spark. But it’s not about having the rocks and the sticks; it’s about obtaining the correct materials to create that roaring fire; that comfortable sense of warmth.
We spend the inhospitable, chilled days rummaging for the best. Assuming we last that long one day we may find that perfect combination of tools and environment that spark could be easily created.
Although that is not where the struggle ends. Is it ever that easy ? That spark has to catch. Which takes obtaining the wealth of kindling wood to make that spark catch. But just because the elements are there doesn’t always make the spark and the wood comparable, that takes trial and error.
That first blissful intoxicating moment of the dancing flame is comforting-the job is done. But is it ? If the flame us neglected upon slumber it shall burn out, it must be fed.
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