28 posts tagged “love”

She was both wise and stupid in the way that when life got hard she didn't work through her problems; she just danced in her underwear alone in her room until they went away.

A couple of hundred years ago, Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. Never leave that till tomorrow, he said, which you can do today. This is the man who discovered electricity. You think more people would listen to what he had to say. I don't know why we put things off, but if I had to guess, I'd have to say it has a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, sometimes the fear is just of making a decision, because what if you're wrong? What if you're making a mistake you can't undo? The early bird catches the worm. A stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost. We can't pretend we hadn't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin really meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beat the hell out of never trying.

I'm starting to learn. You cant make someone love you. You cant make someone be faithful to you. You cant control your own fate sometimes... things happen.. good, bad... indifferent. You just have to let some things go... and hope they turn out for the best.... its like falling off a horse. You're in the air.. and you know its going to hurt like hell when you hit the ground. But there isn't enough time to stop it. So you close your eyes and hope for the best.

"I'm the girl who is lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding farther and farther into the background. Just like the Cheshire cat, someday I will suddenly leave, but the artificial warmth of my smile, that phony, clownish curve, the kind you see on miserably sad people and villains in Disney movies, will remain behind as an ironic remnant. I am the girl you see in the photograph from some party someplace or some picnic in the park, the one who is in fact soon to be gone. When you look at the picture again, I want to assure you, I will no longer be there. I will be erased from history, because with every day that goes by, I feel myself becoming more and more invisible..."

I found that in my old diary, looking back at what I've written before really shows how much I've changed. My recovery from my depression has been an evolution not a miracle. I've gone through hard times from the help of my friends- one friend to be exact. All my friends did help me, but this friend helped me the most.

Although she does not know it, she's helped me go through my depression and help me completely recover from an eating disorder. I couldn't live with my self knowing that I killed my self...if that makes any sense. The plans we made, for the future is what kept me going, I had something to look froward to.

The cure for depression doesn't lie in therapy or in the hands of a doctor. You need to find a reason to live, you need to know there are people out there who care about you and love you. You need to make plans, for next week, a month later-for the future.

So find someone, someone you could completely trust and hang out with them. Spend time with that person and you'll soon find a reason to live again

There are moments in our lives where we find ourselves at a crossroads, afraid, confused and without a roadmap. The choices we make in those moments can define the rest of our days. Of course, when faced with the unknown, most of us choose to turn around and go back, but once in a while, people push on to something better, something found just beyond the pain of going it alone, and just beyond the bravery and courage it takes to let someone in, or give someone a second chance, something beyond the quiet persistence of a dream, because it's only when you're tested, that you discover who you are, that you discover who you can be. The person you can be does exist, beyond the hard work, faith, belief, and beyond the heartache, and fear of what lies ahead.

You're so afraid to continue what we have,
you know something's there,
you feel just as much as I do when you touch me,
you like it just as much as I do when you kiss me,
it's just you're pulling away now because you know that if you don't pull away soon you might find yourself falling in love?

As we wallow in self-pity after a heart-wrenching end to a relationship once so cherished, we have only the aftermath to blame.

Much like the tragic anatomy of a train wreck, the aftermath alone stings hearts and depresses minds. The event itself is a brilliance of chaos, a burst of ferocity with no deception, no tears, no anger. Even shock hasn't arrived. The moment is explosive but uneventful.

The wind that breathes life into tragedy happens in the moments following. And this is true of all our life's events. Only consequences lead to emotion. Happiness is a function of something else, as is love and hate, fear and courage.

Our own thoughts are often predictors of such consequences, and this power inadvertently influences even the strongest hearts. More than not, this is what we might label "irrationality."

And irrationality is the furnace in which heartbreak thrives most abundantly.

It's the Why did he hurt me? Is he happy without me? as much as it is Everything was so perfect.—when, indeed, it was not.

Shut the Fuck Up
And this irrational course to which our hearts so effortlessly damn themselves after tragedy—this is the christening of self-pity, self-deception, self-frustration, self-everything.

We analyze and question every move we've ever made in this fragile state.

We consume ourselves with torture.

We are, in every regard, masochists in the shadow of heartbreak.

Most of us distance ourselves from tragedy with time, and though the self-everything will hardly vanish entirely, time bandages those wounds begun by an event and left open by our minds.

But isn't there something else, something other than time, to mend our hearts? Perhaps another relationship? A selfish rebound. A new found busyness, maybe? Distractions.

Or maybe it's even simpler than that. Maybe we can just tell ourselves to shut the f*ck up. Tell ourselves: "Listen, I really like you and all, but we've mourned and we've mourned. There's nothing we can do. Life is passing us by. Our irrationality fuels our wounds, it does not heal them."

Acceptance
What I suggest isn't that we banish heartbreak. Rather, we embrace it for all it's earned. We exhaust heartbreak with our own burst of ferocity. And then we advance ourselves by acceptance—an affirmative appeal rather than a passive anticipation.

We must accept that our hearts were broken rather than torture ourselves over the Whys and Ifs. Acceptance, with time, will double our efforts to recover the pieces of our broken hearts.

Acceptance means growth. It means accepting that more heartbreak is inevitable. It means saying, "And still, I know I will remain the person I am. I will hurt and I will recover just as I have today."

I miss you, I miss you so much. I miss the old you.
The one that would tell me that he loves me, the one that would always want to see me.
I miss they guy who would randomly write on my wall and tell me that he'd want to spend the rest of his life with me.
I miss those nights where it just be you and I.
I miss the way we'd talk, talk about the future or cars and sometimes dresses. I miss you walking me to the train station. I miss the guy who'd ride the train home with me.
There is so much that I wish remained the same. Will it go back to the way it was? I can't stand to loose you, I lost you twice. And it devastated me, I can't loose you again.
And here I am, wondering if things will work out. Trying to make things right, hoping it'll go back to the way it was.
But are you willing to do the same?

What does life mean to you?

who do you see yourself  being in 10 years? 20?
you may think you know.
but you never do.
growing up as a child and even now, most people have the same goal, get through schooling, get a job, a house, a happy family, and fall in love and die of old age.

but that's not reality. Its conforming.

Life is a series of mistakes, you make mistakes , you learn, and you proceed to make then next mistake. and you learn again.
If you live your life planned, falling the conformity of our society then how can you make mistakes?
Those who make mistakes learn, and knowledge in school can only get you so far, because what happens when schools done and over with? Life.

most people don't hit the reality of life until there forced to.

but me, and many people take the road less traveled, we may go through more, deal with more shit, and not follow everyone else, but in the end, we will be so much stronger. Pain and suffering, may seem useless and undesirable, but its just a blessing in desguise.
with out pain, you get no hope, with out hope, you never reach your goal.

all in all life is full of ups and downs, twist and turns. hills and mountains. but everythingyou overcome, makes you that much stronger,

for me life is about learning, and teaching.
giving back my knowlegde to people around me, not advice, for advice is one sided. its what the person thinks you should do. but really its what you think you should do. and as a friend they shouldnt tell you what to do, because you wont learn. they should guide you. not give you the answer.
ever hear a teacher say giving the answer to you wont help you to learn?

well its true, but that's because most likely they've gone through life's ups and downs and know. they've learned and now they are teaching.

Some people say to me when i get upset, "don't worry it always gets better"
but that is completely false, nothing gets better, if anything it gets worse.
forcing you to learn form your mistakes, and being able to deal with life.
whatever life can throw at you, it will.
and it wont be easy, and its not supposed to be.

you build your own life, you make it yours.
not what people want it to be.
and in the end, you make your own reason for life,

so now tell me,

Whats life mean to you?

Sometimes I hate being right. I hate getting these feelings, I hate being able to know something bad is going to happen, and not being able to do anything about it.
I get this little tingle where my heart is supposed to be, my stomach feels like it's been flipped. I get really sleepy and I dream. These dreams are not what I want to see. These dreams, I do not want.
The line between reality and dreamland fades as time goes by, and soon both worlds collide.
As of now, my stomach and heart are tingling. I slept today, I slept yesterday.
Sleeping, something that doesn't come too easily. Even after all that sleeping; I am tired. So very tired, I want to rest, shut my eyes for real this time and see nothing at all.

I really do hope I am wrong this time, please let me be wrong. I hope I cannot sleep again, I hope I don't dream. I hope what's written in your palm is a lie.

Let me address something quickly: very, very, very few people know what love actually is.

Love isn't being stupid and not letting go when someone hurts you,
that's stupid. that's desperation. that's the feeling of being afraid to be alone.

I hate kids claiming they're in love, because that's a total load of crap. Very few people know what love is.
You have to grow up to understand love, be mature. most of you- aren't, sadly.
They know what "afraid-to-be-alone" syndrome is or the "omg-he's-so-sweet/hot" but they don't know love
BECAUSE "OMG! HE PROBABLY JUST WANTS IN YOUR PANTS!!!"

they think it's that fuzzy feeling in your tummy.
that's a crush. another, simpler word for infatuation.

love is being there for somebody.
being their best friend.
accepting the fact that they make mistakes,
working at it. but not letting them run over you.
it's knowing not to let go when things get hard.
it's not letting your friends know every detail of your relationship
BECAUSE your relationship is your business.
not Sally's. or Sue's. or Bob's. or whatever your friend's name is.

The repetition of every day life kills.
It ruins the flow of my creative juices. No joke. On days that I sleep in, I go to bed feeling exhausted, and yet, I never sleep on the weekends, when I should want rest. I don’t.
It would be a waste of freedom.
Why spend time on parole in seclusion, you know? I’m only tired on weekdays - only when I know I have to drag myself out of my fucking room to take a shower and go to school, and then maybe off to work. Maybe I’m not tired. Maybe it’s just a natural defense against running myself into the ground with routine.
I feel pale, and sick, and run down... For no reason. I eat right. I see the light of day. I breathe fresh air all the time. I love the outdoors. Shit. I'm pretty content with my life. But between Monday and Friday I feel so transient... My head isn’t in the clouds - My feet aren’t on the ground. Where am I?
I don’t know, but frankly, it sucks.

I have some good friends. We party or talk about 'deep' stuff or I can just tell them anything I want. The occasional dramatic scene is worth it. People naturally don’t get along with one another. It’s all a matter of how tolerant people are. I have some tolerant friends. In turn, I think I put up with my share of bullshit. It’s like a cycle of tough loving. But it works. It keeps me sane. In the end I think we really do love each other. bahaha, aweee?