Pin Boards and Pull Ties.

It always seems to be one, or a combination, of certain factors that lead me to actually blogging. I tell myself I will make a conscience effort, remind myself to write, and add little notes here and there to jog creativity. But, it never seems to eventuate. Until one or more certain factors occur.

1. I have an essay due
2. I'm upset or emotional
3. I can't find a song/poem/recipe to describe myself
4. I can't find paper and pen
5. There is something else I should be doing
6. I saw something that made me happy/sad/indecisive/frustrated

Today, it's a combination of a few.

I told myself, this morning at 4am, that I would start the day on a happy note. After long conversations from members of the "boy gang", I was reminded that sometimes all you can do is wait. Sometimes our  finest moments are all mistakes, or we all do things for the best intentions that lead to these; and when all is said and done, when all is given and lost, the only thing left is to sit. Because, dear reader, we are the ones in charge of our own happiness. We cannot expect someone else, something else, other oddities and accessories to make us happy; you are the only one who can find your smile. Many will influence, many will take and give parts of you. Their words and actions can cause ripples, attach themselves to your soul, infecting the essence that is you. But, in the end, you are the only one who can find the ballerina hidden inside the jewellery box of your soul. And, dear reader, you will find her; round and round, dancing to a symphony left with a note of memories once nurtured. And, it will fill your heart with joy. And, everything said and done, these things will make you who you are. It's how you deal with what is given to you, what is said to you, what you are faced with; these things nurture and mould us into the amazing people we become. We are nothing without memories, emotions, love, light, and life.

Pin boards and pull ties, where your memories reflect.
Don't hide them away, or stop and forget.
Put up your happiness, your smiles and delight.
Hang up your brightness to illuminate the night.

Last night I was asked "If you think you have done such terrible things, and you have caused so much pain to those you love; what is the worst thing you have done?". And, I sat on that question, while staring out into the rain exploding on the blackened pavement.
All I could answer, the only thing that came to me, was this.

"I have lied. I have lied about my heart, what is in my heart, what I truly feel in my heart. And I lied to save the others; I lied to hurt them, so they would leave, and so they would never feel hurt from me again".

I hung on those words, like they were threads unravelled from a tragic tapestry of bleakness from some terrible novel found in the back of your great aunts basement. The guilt consumed me, a repetition of words began looping in my head; I was responsible for their hurt and pain, I did this to them, I did this to save both hearts, I hurt them. Until, the voice next to me trailed on the storm, and said to me,

"You are not solely responsible for their hurt. Love requires two people; two people share emotion, connection, passion, and touch. What happens in the end is a reflection of what was there to start with; it shows if what was there was mutual and equal. The hurt felt, the anger and pain felt? That's shared, because love is shared. They had a choice, like you had a choice. If they hurt this much, hurt and ache as much as you do, it's because what you both shared was no small thing; it was mutual and equal love. If they have walked away, no response or show of pain, and your pain is overflowing; does the pain seem worth it in the end?".

And, you know what? It's true.

So, I began this morning by writing down five things that make me smile.
I reminded myself that all the terrible things that have been said, the things that have been said to me that made me question myself, or the things that I have said that made me ache; all of these were all just from hurt. And, I can't keep living my life worried what others think, or hating myself for doing what I thought was right, or letting myself be renovated by the terms and negative words thrown at me. It's turning me into something I am not. That is not me, that is not who I want to be.
And, living a life where everything is second guessed, questioned, and doubt is the preoccupying factor in any conversation or form of social interaction? Nope, not good at all!

I guess, though, I don't even know if I'm the only one in pain. I don't know if I'm the only one hurting, feeling little and lost, and feeling like someone played Radioheads greatest hit on repeat while I was sleeping. How do you ask? How do you say it? Can I just send a text, and email, along the lines of something like this?

"Hey! So, yeah.. my heart feels like a bunch of 13 year olds attached Roman Candles and Sparklers to it, and made a homemade fireworks bomb with it... And, I'm having a hard time... everything hurts, my eyes feel like I've got Arc Eye, and the Purex advert with the dog made me cry... So... you?"...

Actually... in response, I'd probably get
1 - No response what so ever
2 - A response wrapped in seething, bitter, and twistedness....



Pin Boards and Pull Ties....
Watch, as I put all mine up.
Remind me of who I was before
Before I got so stuck

So, along with this, I wrote down little messages. I decided that I will send one text and make one phone call this afternoon, and then my phone is going off for the night. And, once my essays are done, I will write these messages out properly; I have also decided to write for each person I love. We are constantly reminded of the negatives, the put downs, the things we can't do, the lack of faith we have in ourselves. And, it features constantly within everything, leading to self destructive behaviour and self doubt. So, each one who I adore will have a little note, letting each one know how special and amazing they are.

Oh... and just added at the end...
Yeah, you can have all the positivity from me.... But I'm still adding this....
.... Yup.... I'm using freaking Taylor Swift.

And he hated himself and hated her, too, for the ruin they'd made of each other.

My beautiful library contains some of the most inspiring texts ever written. Poetry books from 1910, novels on life and loss, adventure comics, compelling biographies, and stacks of research books. But, one book has sat there, and it has stared at me for a week. 

The Given Day, by Dennis Lehane.

I couldn't really work out why, until I opened the book. 

I have this habit, which is actually pretty fantastic, where I write down quotes from books I have read. I write them down, and I leave them in the first page of the book; they remind me of why I read it, what inspired me, and what has stuck with me.

And there it was, the quote.

"And he hated himself and hated her, too, for the ruin they'd made of each other".

Now, I don't know who actually reads this blog. I'm hoping that there is someone who is reading this right now, and that you actually get what this means. Because, you dear reader, now see my heart.

I've always had this terrible problem. I get myself into situations I can't escape from, situations so dimly lit that I can't find the exit. And, so as we all do, I ask for help. This time, this choice, was harder than I ever thought possible. And, I sit writing this, because it is the only way I can see that what I did was for the best.

Because my heart, oh dear reader, my heart is broken. And, I know, hearts mend. We mend our hearts with a mixture of alcohol, music, flimsy cellotape, and promises that it will be okay. We lie to fix the pain. But, this time, I don't know if I can fix it. Because I did something terrible, but I did it for the right reasons. And no, I did not make this decision by myself. It seems like I did, and sometimes I wish I did, but the options were so limited and so was the time. And, to be honest, I think this is karma. I honestly believe that from all the terrible things that I had done once, this was my punishment. And, I deserve this pain. Because, the love I have burning so tragically, is never to be shared.

When you are a dream, an idea, a perfect thought... how do you change that? When someone loves you for everything you are, they see you as perfection and what they wanted, how do you change that? You become something you are not. 

I have been asked recently "Who are you?". Who am I deep inside? Is there a real me, or is it just a persona for each person? I am reminded of the film Runaway Bride, she didn't actually know how she liked her eggs because she changed to suit. And that is me, dear reader, I change to suit.

Until you.

And you saw me, you saw the real me deep down. Oh, that scared me. You saw the love, the light, the passion, the fire; you shared this with me, and loved every moment in fleeting seconds of eternity. And, then a choice was made, and the only option left was terrifying. And, I couldn't sit in the painful awkwardness. I couldn't have the "what ifs", and the painful constant reminder of loss.

I'd rather you hated me; I'd rather all the love and wonder you saw in my eyes was replaced with repulsion and hatred. I took the pureness we had, and I added drops of black ink, I blurred everything. And, that was the hardest part. I changed to suit, but this time for the negative.

I sat, and I read the message. And, I worked out what I had to do. I asked for advise, and I was given a list of things I needed to do. Yes, it killed everything inside of me; the lyrics "hate me, so you can finally see whats good for you" keep repeating over and over again.

I took everything you disliked, everything that we both despised in others... and I forced myself to act and play a part. Did you ever see my face while I did this? No. What you saw was text, and you heard my voice. Why? Because it was rehearsed; it was rehearsed in a moment, so I could keep it together. No, that was not me. That was everything you hated, that I took on and amplified as many times as I could, and threw it at you in the space of days. I wanted the perfect vision you had to be tainted by something else, so I wouldn't have to see that fire in your eyes ever again. And, so you had a reason to hate me, and so you could walk away and believe you had never lost out, and to live the beautiful life you deserved.

Because, I would rather you hate me for a reason, even if the reason was a fictional representation of the worst of women, than still look at me with perfection. I'd rather you never feel like you missed out, I'd rather you were able to walk away thanking your lucky stars that your perception was false. And, I will sit here, sick to my stomach, drowning in shattered memories.

But, please, live your life with every brightness and every sparkle that you are. 

And, I'm sorry.