Mostly in part because whenever I scroll through my news feed, I find all sorts of useless information about everybody I used to go to high school with and don’t talk to anymore.

But partly because I hid my boyfriend from my news feed because I don’t want to be jealous, but can’t help wondering why he keeps adding random promiscuous girls from high school.  And why he needs to talk to them.  And which ones of them he has had sex with (even though he has only dated me and one other girl, he has made it clear that he was once a huge fan of the one-night-stand.)  And also because I stumbled upon an message conversation with his only ex-girlfriend, and they were talking about me and how I just don’t quite compare to her and it made me vomit on the floor, and still makes me want to vomit, and I keep finding myself looking at her facebook pictures trying to figure out what he saw in her and what I can do to help myself.  I hate being that girl, I am too old for it.  But facebook brings it out in me.  I just don’t want to know.  So I’m staying off facebook.  

I’m travelling, and I took a bath at my friend’s grandmother’s house last night.  His nephew stays with her alot, so in the guest bathtub, there are always toys.  They are always different.  The bathtub usually harbors sharks or dinosaurs and he went through a major star wars phase.  This time, there were two toy cars, a couple of robot figurines, and a bunch of different sized syringes (without needles).

When I was growing up, my mom was a nurse and I come from a family of diabetics, so syringes were a common plaything.  Playing with Brad’s nephew’s syringes in the bathtub reminded me of my old playtime.  My sisters were too old to pretend with me by the time I was good at it, and my brother usually refused to pretend with me because I was a girl.  I pretended alone, and I was one of those kids who is constantly talking out loud, even when I was alone. 

I took a bath at my boyfriend’s house tonight, and there were no toys.  I looked around and in a split second decided my loofah was a giant purple monster and started thinking about what could be the villagers.  There were various washes and shampoos, which looked more like towers and buildings.  I thought for a second about getting a bunch of tiny people (ie Lego) to be my villagers. 

Then I realized that if I carried around a bunch of tiny people toys, I would be considered crazy.  I would be especially crazy if in the bathtub I played with them and talked out loud to myself.  I don’t understand when exactly it stops being okay to play pretend, and I am so thankful that I work with kids and have an excuse to keep using my imagination.  

carouselinparis:

You began to cry, just crying. The deep and ugly kind, the kind you lose yourself in; though you’re thanking God that no one has to see how rubbed and blotched your face becomes. Though, some detached part of you also wishes there was someone there to see you now, to see and understand just how sad you are at heart. They don’t see it and of course, you would never show them that side of you.

(via treasureboxofthoughts)

you have never touched my hair so often.  suddenly every time you pass by, you put your hand on the small of my back.  you stare at me more and look away less.  you say things i’m not completely sure you mean, but you keep saying them and i might be starting to believe you again.  your lips were dangerously close to mine, and we both lingered there for a moment, and mutually turned away.  this is so complicated, but still the most simple thing i know.  neither of us knows what it is or why it is.  it just is.

there’s this intense longing i haven’t felt for months.  suddenly i need something so much that it puts a lump in my throat and a pain in my chest.  i know what i have to do.

i am running as fast as i can.  i hear voices shouting curses at me and then thunder and the sound of metal death whirring past my head.  tiny pieces of broken tree explode from the trunks of my protectors who shield me.  i have no shoes, and can feel the earth below finding its way into me, and losing part of me in the process.  with each step, i leave behind a crimson footprint, part of my life-line.  i can feel the men closing the gap between us, but if i turn to look i may lose my footing or crash.  a branch catches my cheek and holds on for a moment with its thorns, but i don’t cry out.  i hear the sound of running water and change my course to reach it.  when i do, i find a waterfall towering ten stories above the earth below.  i have always thought the possibility of flying a more appealing fate than torture and certain death, so i leap.  i fall through the air long enough to notice the piercing pain in my chest and the vortex below me.  the river explodes and swallows me whole, spinning me in between a loud white sound and a wall of freezing grey.  the white and grey circle around me, twirling me in their arms, erasing my memory of anything before this.  then dancing all around me, there is red.  it pirouettes into the white and grey, and i notice for the first time how the brilliant sun high above the surface of the water casts a glow on everything in between us.  it shines through the red, making it sparkle and i realize that the thing i’ve been most afraid of my whole life will be the last and most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.  i watch as a million tiny pieces of me dance and spread and erupt into nothing.  and then i disappear.