Authors: Maria Ann Green
Today is the day
I forgive Myself
for All
the Mistakes
I've made
Today I Understand
that I am Human
and I
like Anybody else
have my Own
Faults
I Do have my
Problems
and I have
done Destructive things
But
Today I start Learning
Today I start Healing
Today I Want
to Begin
to Mend
my Broken Heart
but to do that
I Must
Stay Positive
and above all
I Need
to Remember
that I Must Always
Love Myself
Many people
Are still gorgeous
Intact
Whole
And untouched
Still protected
From real problems
Disfiguring sorrows
And scaring disappointments
I've faced
What some haven't
And unlike
Those untouched people
I'm lucky to have
Come out
The other side
In one piece
Why is it easier to trust someone else
Than it is to trust myself
Why do I find it easier to forgive others
When I almost never forgive myself
Why am I so hard on the only person
Who is always around
Why can't I be nicer
To the voice inside my head
These things took time to heal from
The scars only fade with time
It wasn't always easy
But with time I learned to trust my feelings
And as time went I got better
Faster in kindness with myself
It took time
And it took a lot of effort
But I love myself now
So it should be an easier task
Yet somehow I still find ways to stumble
And I have to continue working on
Forgiving myself as well
Â
Dear Diary,
The world is always moving. You can't ever make it stop.
Tanner is so amazing, and the time I spend with him always feels too short. Usually when I have to leave him, it feels like I've only been there for a few minutes.
He's the best thing that has ever happened to me.
But⦠oh man, I hate that there's a
but
; Tanner
is
amazing, but I need to make sure I am always true to myself in this relationship. In the past I've let myself be changed by some
one, and I don't want that to happen now, because if it does, we will never last.
Before, if I was dating a guy and our likes or ideas didn't completely match up, I'd slowly morph myself to better match him. It sounds so stupid when I say it now. But I never even noticed I was doing it at the time. I'd try new things, new behaviors, new interests, and I'd love every single one. So I would start to change. And soon I would lose a little of myself without ever realizing. Then later, when those relationships ended, I'd see the changes afterward.
I don't want to do that this time.
Tanner and I don't need to agree on everything. I've already started so much better off by knowing that. We both need to have our own opinions, and when they match up, great, but when they don't, that's just as good. To make it, we each need to be our own person.
That's part of why this relationship feels different and so much better than any other. This time, I truly am still me in every way.
It's hard to think about how I've failed to stray true before, but I try to give myself some slack. Everyone tells me I'm still young, and I think that was part of the problem before. I didn't always know what I felt about something or who I was in every instance; so instead of finding out, it had been easy to just make myself believe I felt as my boyfriends had. But as I grow and live my life, I find it easier to recognize this behavior and change the old ways. Now I think about how I actually feel, instead of how I think I should.
This gives me a lot of hope for our relationship.
But more than that, it gives me so much pride and hope in myself and
any
future I will have.
There are scars that don't show
There are invisible tattoos
Trying to stop loving you feels like dying
Missing you has become normal
Some things just can't change
Some things aren't left behind
Some scars don't show on the outside
When I look at you
And you are happy
I can see the happiness in me
You reflect
What I feel
Right back at me
You're my mirror
Smiling happily
I know I am ready
Don't care if
Anyone else is not
Strong enough
To do it on my own
Not sure what I want more
However
It is not the one
I would choose
Out of so many
And with life
Coming just around the corner
Don't even have a job
Lined up yet
So much will take a break
Hiatus
Preexisting conditions
Are hard to get around
Problems sure to arise
If I had to
I could deal with them
Stand out and shine
I know I am ready
Now I just need the answer
Unanswered questions
No glimpse into the future
No handbook
Or guide
Or directions
For life
Confusion
And potential trouble
But does that outweigh
The potential for
Ecstasy
At a crossroads
While sitting nowhere
Undeniable
Ambiguity
Hopeful for the future
Scared about the past
Trying to move on
Struggling to let go
Always getting better
Occasionally looking back
Can never forget
But try not to dwell
Find an even balance
To make everything okay
I look around
And all I see
Is a big question mark
Staring back at me
Everything is stopped
As if I hit
Pause on the remote
Breath held in
Nothing else moves
Not even sure
What I want
Or how it should
Turn out
Relief and regret
Tinge the outcome
Either way
It lands
I just want to look away
And know
One way or the other
What it is
I see
It's a weird feeling
To not want to get better
To hate the pain
But embrace it
Simultaneously
In one twisted breath
Intertwined
Breaking brittle bones
Just to mend
Them again
Cycled confusion
Confused expectations
Backward hopes
Nothing to hold onto
Slipping fast
Past the feelings
I do not understand
Why don't I want
To be happy
Why would I want
To prevent the change
Why don't I want to get better
Anytime soon
I
Think
I'll feel better
If
I
Just
Let
It
Out
And
Cry
Everyone can use a good cry once in a while
Walk into life with your chin held high
Meagan's head was down, and her right hand was flying as fast as it could. She wrote furiously to get the words onto the page before she forgot them. She always felt better while she was writing.
She believed writing was an art form, and she was truly an artist, or so she hoped. When she was painting with words, nothing else mattered. Nothing.
The world could be crumbling, or rejoicing around her, and all Meagan noticed was the scribbles in her notebook. She would step into the world she was creating, and everything else disappeared. Everything just melted away as she dove further and further into her written work. She could envision the scenes playing out before her, and she needed to block everything else out in order to capture them just right.
Meagan could enter a world of fiction and lose herself. When she was writing, she could come up with any ending she wanted. She was not bound to the laws of reality, and she did not need to stick to true events.
Writing had always come easily to her. She loved it, and it seemed to love her back. This was a two-way relationship she had come to rely on.
If she was upset, she could create a character perpetually perky. If she was bored, she could detail events far from mundane. The possibilities were limitless, and that was where Meagan thrived.
****
Meagan peered around the student center and observed those around her. People-watching was an amazing way to spend time, and a college campus was a perfect place to watch many types of people. She knew she would not be in college forever, and she took the time to relax between classes simply to watch.
She took in the movements, the characters, and the conversations around her, knowing each may help her to write something amazing.
She held up her book and pretended to read while her eyes searched around for inspiration. Stifling a giggle, she tried not to picture what she looked like peering over her pages with suspicious wide eyes.
The couple pretending not to fight on the couch across the room was definitely interesting. The way they whispered was anything but intimate. Their faces were drawn tightly, and the tension was nearly palpable. Someone had definitely done something wrong.
There was also a student who was lost in his seat across from Meagan. He stared at his textbooks with a frown. His eyes were not taking in any information as they remained stationary. His brow was furrowed, and he appeared to be thinking hard. Meagan wondered what was bothering him.
****
Meagan's newest piece was centered around the shattering realization of betrayed trust. She had been walking to class this morning, and the words simply formed themselves inside her head. She had pulled out her phone to type them out before losing their clarity.
Complex descriptions and vivid pictures flashed in front of Meagan while she raced to capture them as quickly as she could.
She had been walking in the crisp sunshine of an autumn afternoon, when out of nowhere, she could feel the angst and desperation of the words that began her new story. She could picture her character sobbing on a hard tile floor while her previously serene world ripped apart.
This was how Meagan's best stories began, suddenly and unexpectedly.
Her brain worked in odd ways, and sometimes she just needed to get the words out. After jotting everything down, she always felt better. Somehow, getting the words out felt like a relief. Often, she felt frustrated and had no idea why until she constructed a poem or scene that had been flitting across the edges of her consciousness.
She wondered where this next piece of fiction would take her.