all unquiet things
She's come undone.

Okay,so it’s been a long time since I last wrote and it’s kind of weird,’cause I’ve spent most of last year keeping a journal,but I guess I just got too busy,so I stopped for a while.The thing is I kinda miss it,and in way,I actually realized I really need it too,even now that things seem to have calmed down.

Last year was kind of crazy.I mean,I went pretty crazy,my family went pretty crazy(and pretty disappointed) and for a while,life was pretty damn hard.

It’s weird thinking about it,and sometimes it still seems like it all happened yesterday,you know.And most of the time it still hurts just as bad,but I try really hard not to dwell on it.

You know that movie/book ‘Speak’?The part when Melinda realizes she’s becoming ‘hair women’?Well,I guess that’s how I feel sometimes.Like I’m disappearing,and that’s what I usually want when I’m around some people,but it’s still hard to realize that I’m withdrawing and turning into this closed off person who’s too afraind of…well,everything,I guess.

I’m scared of people loving me and forginving me,and I’m afraid of letting them back in my life,’cause I still resent them for their lack of empathy and their lack of effort in trying to understand my motives.And I keep having these nightmares about everything that happened,propably because I never got any closure.And it sucks,big time,but at least things are better now.My parents and I are in a good place,me and my friends are hanging out and having fun again,and I know I’m not okay yet,but I’ll get there,and at least I’m not as scared and lonely as I was a few months ago.

Before everything happened,I used to wonder how people recover from tragedies,cause you know,I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that people were actually able to move on after something really bad happened to them.But I guess you just have to,cause the world won’t stop spinning just so you to get your act together,you just have to take it day by day and do your best to keep afloat,to get through another day.

Growing up it’s just complicated for a lot of people,there’s too much you have to figure out for yourself,and a lot of things you’re not prepared to face but has to anyway.And a lot of the time I just don’t know how to react to things,or how to make the right decisions or say the right things,’cause no one ever teaches you that.It’s just another one of those subjects that no one ever teaches you at school,and another one of those conversations that just get lost between ‘safe sex talks’ and what  college you should apply to.But eventually,you end up learning for yourself,’cause that’s the only option you have and everyone,no matter where you come from or what your ideals are,want to succeed in life and be happy,and be loved,that’s the human condition,we all need someone,we all become vulnerable to something at some point in our lives,and I guess that’s the beauty of it,this vulnerability.It sure sucks sometimes,when you’re all raw and exposed,but it also gets your skin thicker,so the next time something bad happens you won’t be so desperate.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I did mature a lot after everything that’s happened,and I know that I’m still pretty far from okay,but I’m getting there.Eventually.

Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.Richard Siken (via psych-facts)
It was like their lives were overlapping lines, like they had their own gravity. Usually, that serendipity felt like the nicest thing the universe had ever done for her.Eleanor and Park, Rainbow Rowell (via thismidnighte-reader)
Everyone’s chest
is a living room wall
with awkwardly placed photographs
hiding fist-sized holes.
Andrea Gibson (via n-o-t-y-o-u-r-s)

(Source: dominicmatthew)