Rant ant nt t

I got told the other day that one of my good friends used to avoid hanging out with me because "I was always too happy." And now I'm kind of sad-laughing at that because I'm not always happy and I also can't believe that I ever called him a friend. So here is a list of things that I don't like because apparently my happiness is annoying to the general population.

• Pumpkin spice lattes. They taste like shit. Sorry.
• Cute relationships. Mostly because I'm bitter and I'm still trying to convince myself that single life is better, but I guess I don't know anything other than single.
• Disrespect for religion. I don't care if you don't agree with my views, I'll respect you and what you believe if you respect me.
• Ugg boots. I could buy 5 pairs of shoes for the price of one pair of ugg boots and that is absolutely outrageous.
• People who wear fake glasses.
• Bad drivers. 
• The kids taking AP Calc that keep complaining about it. I'd give anything to have Mr. Smith as my math teacher again.
• The fact that I can't keep my own secrets. My life is an open book and I'm starting to realize that fake friends are everywhere, not just behind my back.
• How ungrateful I am.
• Ceramics. 
• Feeling inadequate. It happens way more often than it should.
• Texting. I'd rather hear you laugh out loud than get "lol" in a text message.
• Telling people how I feel. I think I feel too much.
• The commons. I don't fit in there and I never will.
• Crying. 
• Babysitting. I get that girls are supposed to like it and all, but I don't.
• Lipgloss.
• Being anonymous. I feel too safe behind this mask and my face will sting when I finally have to take it off.
• Tattletales. I just want to sneak out and do hoodrat stuff with my friends. Stop making it a big deal.
• People who get cheated on and don't have enough respect for themselves to end the relationship.
• Love. It's not real. And I hope, someday, that someone proves me wrong.

20 years

20 years wasn't enough to keep them together. Maybe that's the reason I will forever be afraid of commitment. How do you wake up one day and decide that your significant other isn't all that significant anymore?

You did though. And you've been begging for my forgiveness ever since. I'd like to believe that somewhere along the way I did finally forgive you, but it's been four years and I still get mad about it sometimes.

I think my anger is justified. Because you've been trying to justify what you did ever since then and you made up lies and started to believe them yourself.

So no. I'll probably never get along with my stepmom. You probably think I'm a brat for not giving her a chance, but in my eyes she doesn't exactly deserve one.

And I realize her 6 kids had nothing to do with it, but they bug me too. Maybe it's because all their names start with the same letter and that makes me want to vomit. Or maybe it's because I met them the week of the wedding. The wedding that I never showed up to because it was too much for me to handle.

I thought I might regret not going to your wedding someday, but that regret still hasn't come. And you say I'll regret not spending time with you while I can and I probably will, but not quite yet.

The guilt-trips and the pathetic tears have no effect on me anymore so you might as well save your breath,

I can't explain why, after four years, I still cry about it sometimes and wonder how something like that could happen to my seemingly perfect family.

I guess it was only ever perfect from the outside.

Slow suffocation

It's safe to say that you're killing me

Every touch, every glance my way places another brick on my chest

I thought that was a form of torture, but here I am, falling in love with the pressure

The space between us on the couch was okay because at least you were sitting next to me

Then you scooted closer

And I was definitely more okay

My lungs are screaming and these bricks are getting heavier

I'll get used to it soon enough

And you don't ever need to let go or let up 

Because my lungs will grow stronger

And my heart is more fond of you than it is of pumping blood

I knew that letting you into my life would be dangerous 

And oh was I right.

Can you use it in a sentence, please?

Spell it out.

L-O-V-E

You can't have my heart; it's not mine to give.

That iron-y taste in my mouth isn't love it's blood. Love kissed my elbow when I tripped on the crack in the cement, but love wasn't the pretty boy who kissed my lips. Love told me I was beautiful, lust told me I was 'hot.'

Love was laying on the grass next to my first puppy watching it sleep. Love was screaming at my best friend and then trying to drive away from her house as the tears clouded my vision. Love was stealing his sweatshirt and stealing glances in his direction.

People say love hurts, but in reality the absence of love is what stings their eyes and makes their body go numb.

Love is perfect, but the people who experience it make it messy.

I don't know passionate, breathless love, but I have the constant, unconditional love of a mother and that's enough for me for now.

Love walked me to my car in the dark and held me in it's arms when I didn't have the strength to stand on my own. It reminded me that high school isn't everything and popularity won't matter after graduation. Love wasn't the one who made the promises you didn't keep. You did that. It wasn't love's fault.

Love is mine. Love is yours.

Love loves company so let's make it ours.

Re:

Rereading those texts from a month ago and seeing where the heart eye emojis turned into one word answers and Read 8:33pm

Replaying that song you screamed at the top of your lungs while he held your hand in the car on those Sunday night drives up the canyon

Realizing that he no longer jogs to give you a hug when he sees you in the hall and he doesn't ask what's wrong when he can tell you're not yourself

Recognizing that you don't catch him smiling at you while you're ranting about something that pissed you off

Resisting when your friends tell you to "move on, he isn't worth it," when you know he is absolutely worth it to you

Rebelling against whatever triggers tears because crying in front of him is too pathetic

Reaching for his hand one last time and watching him shake his head and walk away

Mediocrity is pretty

In elementary school I was the smart one. I knew way more math than the average sixth grader because I grew up with my dad telling me I was his "little genius" and I liked that so I ran with it.

I did everything I could to live up to who he thought I was.

I won a contest in second grade for handwriting. Who cares about handwriting? You would be lucky if you could read my scribbles now. High school doesn't care so why should I?

I won the spelling bee in middle school. That was probably the highlight of my life and isn't that a disappointment?

I won math competitions that I would do on Saturdays. But those trophies are hidden in my closet collecting dust behind the sports ribbons that people actually care about. 

People didn't care that I was smart. I was a little chubby and had braces and didn't know how to do my hair and that's how people saw me.

No one likes the smart kid. 

So I stopped being the smart kid. On the second day of Junior year I decided to call it quits. I dropped all my hard classes. I took normal ones with my friends because friends are more important than what college I end up at, right?

No one knew me as the smart math girl anymore and my dad moved out when I was in 8th grade and took his "little genius" with him.

So I guess that leaves me:

Mediocre at best.

And no one remembers mediocre.

Pulse

My cheeks get red in the cold.

I'm afraid of the dark.

I bruise really easily.

I still need my mom when I get sick.

My heart speeds up when I get up in front of crowds of people.

I cried when my parents sat me and my siblings down to tell us they were getting divorced.

The hairs on my arms stand up and I get goosebumps when I hear a good song.

I procrastinate everything.

I hesitate to trust people because I've been burned too many times to count.

My best friends aren't the ones I know I can rely on all the time.

I'd eat Chick Fil A over a fancy restaurant any day.

I have hands that need to be held and a heart that longs to be broken to feel something. 

                                                                             

                                                                                              Anything.

I like the cold side of the pillow.

I 

    Am

               Human.

Frenemies

I have a love-hate relationship with words. 

They too often escape me and abandon me in times of desperation. They leave me when I stand in front of crowds, in heated arguments, and when my crush talks to me in the hallway. 

They are there late at night when everyone has gone to sleep, but slip away when I try to explain to my parents why my car was gone in the middle of the night and I was no where to be found.

They are there when I rehearse what I'll say to that friend that hurts me continuously and never apologizes, but leave as soon as I open my mouth to tell her how I feel.

Words aren't on my side but I guess people aren't either.

You might as well paint "adult" across my forehead

The view was amazing. At the top I had juice boxes and nap time and the word "responsibility" held no meaning. I was happy.

Then one day something sent me plummeting to my death. But it wasn't really death, it was reality. And those might as well be the same thing.

I still can't figure out what it was that did it or when it happened, but I got exiled from paradise.

Maybe it was the person who canceled recess after the sixth grade.

Or maybe it was Jamie Lynn Spears' kid who is the reason Zoey 101 ceased to exist.

Maybe it was Disney Channel when they decided to stop making the good shows like That's so Raven and Lizzie McGuire.

Or maybe it was the day I got a phone and traded in face to face communication with 

Hey

Hey

Sup

Not much, you?

Nothing. Who do you like?

Maybe it was my first kiss because after that I was never the same.

Maybe it was when I traded in crayons and coloring books for pens and textbooks.

Maybe it was my first broken heart because you can never really fix something that's broken. 

Or maybe it was the day I realized that this is my last year at home before I have to grow up and decide who I am in this world. If it hasn't already been decided for me...

Regardless, I've lost paradise and it doesn't miss me like I miss it.