With the wonderful ability to not be able to sleep, I think a lot. Probably more than I should and up until last night it’s been a bad thing. And right now, I’m thinking of all the ways I’ve changed, just since freshman year. No matter how much i “like who i am now”, change drips into my veins and I fight it like it’s a toxin, but in the end I always end up better than before. Talking this way, I feel like a model of some new appliance, or a new car. Model 2.4 is much better than model 2.3.
I smile every chance i get and in the past two days I’ve been complimented on how nice and caring I am to everyone. No. I’m not ashamed of that. I’ll flaunt it to the heavens and maybe I can prove to this forsaken world that good people do exist. We’re still here.
I still hurt so much, constantly. It’s like a scar that will never disappear and it just keeps opening itself up whenever need be. When he left, I felt empty. No…I was filled with pain. My life was empty. But now, I’ve got people filling in his spaces and holding my hand when I need to think about him. It’s an amazing feeling; to love and be loved.
I’ve met new friends; kept old ones; and lost some of the best, but I’m thinking that that is part of growing up. People are in our lives for a purpose, and when that duty is fulfilled, one way or another, they are taken away from us. It doesn’t make sense because we hurt [god, do we hurt] but we’re healed and nurtured and loved by someone that saw us hurting and took us in. I guess that’s why everyone always says everything happens for a reason.
Last night I was close to sobbing myself into sleep. I still don’t handle this well. A message came for me around quarter after three from a boy that I never talked to when I knew him and haven’t talked to in nearly 6 years. All the stupid thoughts that had been racing in my head for hours disappeared instantly.
In all actuality, if this were freshman year, I would stumble and trip my way through conversations and relationships and never be able to get a firm grasp on anything real. I would subject myself to hurtful things and live with myself hidden in the corner, glowing of self-pity and an unbearabley low self-esteem level. And I still stumble and I still haven’t found much that was real, but no matter what
i always land on my feet.  —me, circa August 2006. (I wanted to post this because I am astounded by how much it still applies to me, despite a few small things. I was 16 years old when I wrote this, but most of it sounds as though I wrote it today.)

(Source: phenomenaaa)
Tagged:  reblogging from me,   because it's still true,  

  1. cath-lin reblogged this from whimsicaldays
  2. whimsicaldays reblogged this from phenomenaaa and added:
    Phen This girl is my absolute favorite writer.
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  4. kylep4rker said: This is beautiful and real. perfect.
  5. phenomenaaa posted this
  1. cath-lin reblogged this from whimsicaldays
  2. whimsicaldays reblogged this from phenomenaaa and added:
    Phen This girl is my absolute favorite writer.
  3. phenomenaaa reblogged this from phenomenaaa
  4. kylep4rker said: This is beautiful and real. perfect.
  5. phenomenaaa posted this