My almost.

The alcohol courses through my veins and suddenly things feel more… clear. But I want you to know that sometimes it’s the “almosts” that hurt the most. I wonder how you sleep in your bed all alone at night. I wonder how you feel. You found me and you captured me and I felt like for a short period of time we were one in the same. We connected on some sort of strange frequency only I could feel. I live once and I do so freely. And when I find something that I feel content with I want to run with it. I wanted to run with you. And to this day I’m not sure why. What did you want? Did you even know? Why am I so fucked up about all of this months later? Like I said, it is the almosts that cant hurt the most.

You were my almost lover with the sinful body. You were my almost love with the crystal blue eyes. But we are apart and we always were.

Will I ever find someone to complement me?

My almost.

The alcohol courses through my veins and suddenly things feel more… clear. But I want you to know that sometimes it’s the “almosts” that hurt the most. I wonder how you sleep in your bed all alone at night. I wonder how you feel. You found me and you captured me and I felt like for a short period of time we were one in the same. We connected on some sort of strange frequency only I could feel. I live once and I do so freely. And when I find something that I feel content with I want to run with it. I wanted to run with you. And to this day I’m not sure why. What did you want? Did you even know? Why am I so fucked up about all of this months later? Like I said, it is the almosts that cant hurt the most.

You were my almost lover with the sinful body. You were my almost love with the crystal blue eyes. But we are apart and we always were.

Will I ever find someone to complement me?

My ghost story.

You were beautiful. It felt like a secret I couldn’t bear to keep, so I told you. And you smiled, just a halfway smile, like you didn’t quite believe me. But I meant it, with everything I had. And when I told you this deep secret there was more behind it than just words. The statement was fueled by admiration and lust. As you knelt above me, as you kissed me gently, I had the overpowering urge to touch every inch of your body. Your milky soft skin. The little parts of your chest that were growing stubble, your strong legs that were long and lean, that carried you into my life. I can still taste the saltiness of your skin and I can still smell you. Sometimes at the grocery store a scent will hit my nostrils, and I’ll follow it or look for it like a dog searching for something. And I scan each face hoping to see yours but instead i’m met by strangers staring back at me.

And you’re so close yet so far. And I now I have simple memories, so complex in their simplicity I struggle not to let them haunt me. And sometimes when I lie in bed at night I think of you and I. Together. Laying in your bed in your quiet room and I can still hear your heartbeat, quick and nervous. I made you nervous. Do I still?

Like a ghost you came into my life and then you left. And for years I’ll keep telling myself our little ghost story, perhaps around a campfire late at night when I’m all alone and want to feel something other than loneliness.

I want to tell you something.

“I want to tell you about your heart— you’ve probably been neglecting your heart—and you don’t know.”

― F. Scott Fitzgerald

I think one of the most fascinating things about authors from the early 19th century and before is that the things they wrote about were so old, yet so new. Sylvia Plath wrote about depression and feelings of hopelessness. These were issues many people were facing and so reading her work brought people together, made them feel less alone. She was a pioneer of her amazing, although short lived, time on this earth. And leave it to F. Scott Fitzgerald to write a line that reverberates through time. He told us and we listened – we’ve been neglecting our hearts. And it can take a break-up, a death or even just a slightly traumatic life experience to realize the extent of neglect we’ve been putting unto ourselves.

The beautiful thing about realization is the ability to do something about it. I’ve put into action a new plan.

  • I won’t beg anyone to stay in my life, even if I love them. If they wanted to stay, they would. Simple.
  • I will give myself positive affirmations daily.
  • When I look in the mirror, even if I want to say something terrible about myself, I will smile instead and find something positive to say.
  • I won’t be so hard on myself. Seriously.
  • I am going to be more mindful. Stressing about the future is pointless. I will set a goal and work every day for it, but I won’t overwhelm myself.
  • I am going to stop fighting my brain and just accept thoughts as they come. Yes, he’s still on my mind a lot, but I’ve just been letting the thoughts of him come and go and accepting it. Peace

There’s more, but those are the main ones I am working on. Nothing like cramming your life with full-time school, full-time work, going to the gym and trying to keep your shit together. My mental break was what I needed and I am grateful for it. My feelings of hopelessness have dwindled away and I feel better than ever.

I’m back baby.

To the almosts.

This is to the almosts. The almost love, the almost made it, the almost could have beens.

These are the most heartbreaking sometimes. The lack of closure, the incessant thoughts, the wondering, “what did I do wrong?”

My sweet love, it isn’t you that did anything wrong. You loved with your whole being, you were afraid but you did it anyways. You walked off a cliff hoping for an ocean of love below you, but instead you hit rock bottom. And this is nothing to be ashamed of.

So here’s to the almosts. You’ve just got to remember you are not an almost, you are just enough and then some. xoxo