It’s a Cavetown song. Not my favorite, but a good one.
It’s a day I ask my cat to be my valentine. She climbed on my back, so I think I scored.
And two years ago, It was one of the best days of my life.
I told him I liked him in the most stupid, Roundabout way anyone could. So for half the day he was following me around, Asking “What did you mean by that?” I was pretty sure I was going to either kill him or kiss him, Because it was humiliating and the first time I ever told someone I liked them, But there was also this sweet, hilarious, genius boy, So dumbfounded by the idea I might like him.
I still remember the words he said as he slipped out of the room at the end of the day: “It’s okay, Cora. I like you too.”
I don’t know if that’s actually as romantic as it is in my mind. I’m trying to look at it objectively, But all I can hear in those words is him.
We were an awkward, clueless mess, But we worked. We worked way too well. Competing for the best grade, Teasing for the stupidest things. We matched each other in the most perfect way.
I don’t know how he’s doing now. I hope he’s doing well, hope he’s happy. The only thing tainting my golden memory of him is how much of a fool I made of myself at the end. Even so, I still have a smile on my face as I think about the time I spent with him.
I wonder if he’s thinking of me too, today?
I spend most of my time in some sort of bubble. Sometimes it’s a lonely bubble, When everyone has someone and I’m simply no one. Sometimes I stare out at all the people who are just so alive. They’re not drowning, Staring up at the light as they run out of oxygen. Sometimes my bubble is a cage, A prison I designed myself.
Sometimes my bubble is safety. With headphones over my ears and my nose in a book, My bubble is a different world, A quiet, peaceful place. I’m not me in my bubble, I’m everything and nothing and safe. The walls of my bubble protect me from the cold, cruel world.
Sometimes my bubble pops. And then I’m exposed, threatened. It’s me against the world, And I can’t hide from the universe anymore. There’s no defense, Nothing between me and potential danger. Honestly, it’s terrifying.
Because I’m one of those people with whole damn lives. There’s a world outside my bubble, Just waiting for me to experience.
I’ve got my very own existence to live.
And I can’t do that if I’m hiding in a bubble.
“Glass half empty, Glass half full.”
Some people might say I have a “glass half empty” mindset. But I think some glasses have to be completely full, And half just doesn’t cut it.
If I get half the questions wrong on a math quiz, Is the correct response “Oh but I got half right”?
If I spend half my day wasting away on my phone, Should I be proud of myself for being a functioning human half the time?
If I told you I spend half my waking hours wishing I was dead, Would you say “Great! You like being alive half the time”?
I’m sorry if I’m being pessimistic, But some glasses need to be full.
I wish I could talk to you like I want.
I wish I could share all the gay jokes that crack me up at 2 am When I’m tossing and turning because human interaction scares the shit out of me And I know I’ve got school tomorrow So I should probably get some sleep But I’ve got homework that I forgot to do Yet I’m definitely not going to go do it (2 am, hello?) And having an anxiety attack alone in the dark will solve everything Right?
I wish I could ask you how it feels to be a girl Because I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean And I’m not sure there’s a word for whatever I am But my anxiety and OCD and whatever the fuck is wired wrong in my brain wants a word to define me In a neat little box that tells me how to live my life Yet my whole life has been about breaking out of the boxes other people put me in But all I want is to find my own box where it’s safe So could you just please help me talk this through Cause I deserve to at least not be alone Right?
I wish I could lean on my “best friend” But she’s homophobic and transphobic and would definitely drop me like a hot stone if she knew what I was struggling with Although it’s not okay for me to be angry with her Because at least she still talks to me Unlike everyone else I’ve ever opened to So I can’t be picky about whether or not my friends hate who I am Cause it’s a miracle I have friends at all who put up with my bullshit Right?
I wish I could say how much I need you to be there for me But every single time I ask that of someone They say “Yes, of course, you mean the world to me” And then leave me crying on my bedroom floor But honestly it was probably all my fault Because that’s what they told me when they left And I still swear they were decent people So clearly I’m the problem Right?
If wishes fell like rain, then certainly I am a storm.
“…….-“ “Nevermind.” “It doesn’t matter.”
It doesn’t matter. I swear it doesn’t matter. I’d never tell you anything that really did matter, So the little things don’t matter either.
I don’t care about that stupid little anecdote. I’m not bothered by failing my math quiz. I don’t mind that I never say anything of value. I completely agree, I’m last on your to-do list. I couldn’t care less that I need someone to talk to. I don’t wish you would realize how much I need to hang out with someone.
It really doesn’t matter that I’m going to do something undoable if I’m alone for much longer. It doesn’t matter.
And by extension, I don’t matter.
I love you. And I’m scared out of my mind. But if I can’t find the courage to share the gay meme that had me cackling for, like, five minutes straight? How could I possibly express how much I need to have a conversation?
It really doesn’t matter, I promise.
I’m not sure which is worse: Bad memories or happy memories? I was just minding my business, Browsing through my old games. I redownloaded one I hadn’t played in a while, Just a stupid puzzle game. But the second I opened the first level, I’m hit with wave after wave of… Happy memories? The calm feeling. Being content. Being satisfied. Out in the cold air, Alone, But happy because I was just with my favorite person in the world. That feeling where you can’t help a little grin, Because life’s just so good, you know? And I’ll get on the bus and do all the things I love, Or maybe I’ll just watch the trees out the window.
The whole word used to be at my feet. I used to be reckless and wild and free. I can’t believe any of those words could ever describe me, But it was true. Once upon a time, I was genuinely happy. Calm. Free. Loved. I was okay, Was something more than “alive”.
Tell me which is worse: Bad memories or happy memories?
When my dad went to parent back to school night, The students were told to make a map for which teachers their parents should visit. And in the principal’s speech, he said he could tell which parents had
Daughters __ And which had
Sons
Based on the colors, the labels, the symbols. And when my dad came home, He said he had looked at mine And it was a mix of both.
I didn’t think twice about it when it happened. But now that story’s got my head spinning with a million different colors. And I’m looking at all those flags, Trying to figure out which one feels right.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I used to think it was so complicated, But it’s actually quite simple.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
Once upon a time, I really did want to keep going. Once upon a time, I thought it was worth it. Once upon a time, I believed that if you fought hard enough, If you gave it your all, Things would turn out okay. Once upon a time, I believed in the magic of tomorrow.
But I’m older now. Older and smarter and a whole lot more realistic. I know what I didn’t then: “Tomorrow” is only what you make it. Back then, I knew those rays of sun could bring out the best in me. Back then, I had the willpower to move forward, to keep fighting. So I trusted that magic of life, Of love, Of hope, to protect me.
But that fairy dust has worn off now. It only draws off the strength you already have inside. And now that I have none? Now that I’m doing everything I can to bleed out that strength? “Tomorrow” is not magic. “Tomorrow” is just fear.
It’s another day to let my anxiety to win. It’s another day to have a panic attack. It’s another day to add more scars. It’s another day to scream at the mirror. It’s another day to learn I’ll never be enough for myself.
So I don’t want to do this anymore.
Again, I’m standing on an edge I can’t see the bottom of, And I can’t remember why I ever wanted to stay. Shouldn’t I just fall? Fall, Fall, Fall, Until I find the numbness it would take To finally get the hell out of here?
To finally escape tomorrow.
You know what? I like him. I definitely like him. I like everything I’ve noticed about him - Which is a lot, considering I’m very observant. And yes, My crush is concerning, Given the fact we’ve never even had a conversation before. But I’ll still sit here, thinking about him.
Not thinking about anything else.
Not thinking about how my “best friend” is homophobic. Not thinking about how I’ll never tell her about him, because she doesn’t get to know some of me and not all of me. Not thinking about how in just two days, I’ve all but cut her out of my heart. Is that cruel?
Not thinking about how my mom told me I need to do more, put in more effort. Not thinking about how she had every right to say that, given my screen time and how I can barely drag myself out of bed every day. What’s wrong with me?
Definitely not thinking about all the lines I swore to myself I’d never cross - that have all been crossed a million times over. Why am I like this?
Nope. Not thinking about any of that. All that’s on my mind is how I crossed him in the hallway, like, five times yesterday. (Not thinking about how it’s really, really sad that’s the best thing to happen this week.) Yep, all I’m thinking about is how his team played my team in volleyball today, And I managed not to humiliate myself. Quite remarkable, honestly. (Not thinking about how not making an utter fool of myself for five seconds is what I’m most proud of.)
Haha, see? All that’s going through my head is boys. Not depressing thoughts. No suicidal tendencies here! Feelings of self hate? Nope, only feelings about that stupid boy!
I wish that were true.
