حنين♥

this post is about regrets. cause i’ve had a few..

Names and details blur into the backdrop of my past quickly and without much second thought. but my mind continuously circles back to a regret so deep that it stays vivid; i can only call it my true one and only despair.

Sparing you gray areas and muddled memories reminiscent of a MEAN GIRLS plot, i found myself tethered to a group of okay girls, but none i can recall having any true affection for. except one. this girl was happy, personable, lovely -a genuine friend. i saw in her what i thought was in me. but one day, for fun, for laughs, for shits, for giggles — i really couldnt tell you, it hands down was a bullshit reason - we stopped talking to her. i really have no clue why, i just went with it, and that makes me just as guilty as anyone else in that group. i remember passing her in a cafe and not saying a word. my stomach dropped. i wanted to look back, grab her hand, speak a word —anything. and i didn’t. to know how lonely she felt then…if only she knew i felt just as lonely being surrounded by those empty girls. but you never think about how you feel, it’s about what everyone perceives. 

I’d like to think i didnt know who i was then..but that would be a lie. I knew exactly who i was, i chose to be someone i wasnt that day. I wonder what could have been had i went with her. If i’d been as assertive and secure as i am now— would i even be this way had i not gone through that lesson? The point is, I had never up to that point and will never again treat anyone like that. I wasn’t a mean girl then and I am not a mean girl now.

I’m just wiser.

I’m a little bit of a hypochindriac sometimes. So when i get a really bad pain in my head or leg or something my mind immediately goes, “just in case i die, i should wipe out the history cache on my computer….and clean up some files…and generally just delete the hard drive.”

#shame #stuff I don’t want mama finding  #natural first thought upon dying

i’ve been restless lately. every time these feelings arise i find myself doing something drastic or needing something new. a new piercing, a new ridiculous hobby i’ll never finish, moving clear across the country - you know - normal shit only off balance people would seemingly do. this time it’s different. this time i know where my restlessness is coming from:

i actually want to invest in roots.

it’s been so easy for me to leave people and move places and become so many things because i’ve never been attached. it makes life a little easier when you are able to molld into different things and surroundings and go with the flow. but eventually you want your roots grounded. i’m 26. when i was younger, it was fine. but i am ready for set, and familiar places, faces and career. i’m even maybe finally ready…for love?

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out, that you’ll dutifully pass on the joke of being alive without ever learning the punchline—the name of the beneficiary of all human struggle, the sum of the final payout of every investment ever made in the future—which may not suit your sense of humor anyway and will probably involve how many people it takes to change a lightbulb.

she lives over 200 miles away. i haven’t had a real conversation with her in weeks. i woke up to a text saying, “i love you” because she instinctually sensed i wasn’t okay.

THAT is a best friend.

I love her for everything she is and what she brings to my life. A lot of best friends talk everyday and are with each other all the time. That isn’t our relationship, by sheer distance and space. And even if it wasn’t that, and we lived closer together, i think we would still be the same way (albeit, obviously spend more time together) because of how our personalities sync up. people question how we could truly be friends. But its never how many words or how much time we are together, it’s the quality of each action. It isn’t what she says or how many times she says it; it’s the timing and the sincerity of it. I love her to the moon and around the rim of the stars and back.

I do.

 I absolutely HATE grocery shopping. especially on a Sunday. bleh.