beauty in the breakdown. english translation: wednesday night procrastination.

It’s this emptiness. A distant feeling, a numbing of the body and you don’t know how long it is to stay. It’s unknown and foreign and this so utterly disgustingly socially-disapproved unfamiliar. It’s this constant suffering of emotions and the heart and




They call it loneliness.
Not so much loneliness but rather a desperate longing for him, a craving for the comfort and soothing of his voice to return, this unexplainable thirst for his presence. And the entire while you’re thinking, “What the hell am I doing? How did I permit myself to go in over my head?, why did I let my heart overrule my head yet again?"
It’s so hard. It’s been over seventeen years and this is all so ridiculous but I prayed and I prayed and I prayed and I’ve never been so convinced this is a sign. I got my answer sooner that I thought I would have. I believe with everything I have this is simply a test: are we really as crazy about each other as we think?, Has something beautiful been created that not one of our friends will ever ever EVER understand, but we have found each other and from there created it?… Does absence really make the heart go fonder? Or is it as easy to move on and throw them outta our daily thoughts as it seems in our generation these days? You see teenagers/people “falling” so quickly, then hurting each other, arising from the ashes a little bruised and yet still untouched, attempting to act invincible and unaffected and emotionless? Nonchalant.
I used to be her. I had built a stonewall around my sensitive and naive and ever so vulnerable heart. The world had once seen my soft personality and I thought I had made a mistake in showing them; as I was growing up, I made an unconscious decision to change that and lead them onto believe I was touch and strong and as far from vulnerable as possible. In order to do so, I created an image dominant of independence, sharp wit, bravery, boldness, courage, strength, and the lack of potential vulnerability. I was convinced I held the cards in the game. I felt as though I controlled people, their emotions and worst, mine. I attempted to control who I was and what I felt and how I felt towards certain people at any given point in my life.

And I thought that was the perfect way of life. The only way of life.
I’ve slowly changed over the years, the months, even weeks.
I’m returning to my original nature. My sensitive heart and spontaneous but semi-rare spurts of vulnerability, my diehard love for my surrounding world… and certain people in it.
I no longer believe dependence is always a bad thing, a sign of weakness. Correction, only if you have found the right person.

I never thought I would find him. Really. I prayed about him, I was desperately seeking him in everyone I met. Deep down, I thought he wasn’t out there so what did I do? I attempted to create him in people who weren’t him at all. I built him up, down to every last quality, every last flaw. He was perfection. And I prayed. Oh, let me tell you, I’ve been praying for him since I was a little girl. Come to think of it, I honestly didn’t believe he was out there, he was out searching for me at that.
I had doubt, I doubted perfection. I sound like I’m worshipping him and the fact that I believe I’ve finally found him, and maybe in a sense I am. I’m worshipping the fact that I have never, never in my life felt this way towards someone. You know, we see fate on the big screen, classic Hollywood serendipity, yet it’s in our nature to doubt that, not someone, but the someone, is out there waiting/searching for us. And when we finally find them, we don’t know what to do. It’s this feeling like someone has taken my past of my shoulders and just said… “Now you can start living. The past seventeen years of your life has simply been preparation for meeting him and beginning your life in his presence.” With him, everything, and I’m talking everything, is just so different. Everything feels just so fucking right, call it instinct or… fate. I said it.
I’m falling down this long steep tunnel, it’sa straight shot down, and I’m just shooting down this thing head first with no consciousness or ability to stop and everything starts to get blurry and I don’t know where I am, at the beginning of the tunnel or near the end because everything is so dark but that’s the thing it’s just the OPPOSITE of dark - it’s this bright light that won’t shut off, and you continue dreading your days, waiting, just waiting for something to happen, something bam! to turn the switch, dim the light, but it doesn’t come. Alice sliding backwards down the hollow tree, down under the truck, passing life all along. It’s this exciting adventure and there’s no stop option, no pause button, no opportunity to get off the ride. But there is absolutely no reason in my mind to want to get off the ride, everything is so sweet and wonderful and… I just hope it’s everlasting. I’ve never wanted forever more. I’ve never wanted to spend my life, examine these words, spend my life with someone before I met him.


I met him and he changed everything. We were created for each other. He is the love of my life.
I don’t understand it, and you know, perhaps I never really will.
And that right there, I’m convinced, is the beauty of life. That surprise element, that looking back upon the past couple months and wondering where he even came from and how he ever so casually walked into my life but saying hell with it because none of it even matters. What matters is that I know someday, someday soon I will fall into his arms and we will be together. And it's as simple as that.




My life is one big complicated mess, but hell it’s beautiful.