can’t help myself

i can’t help myself anymore
and when you have to admit that
it’s humiliating 
dehumanizing
being forced to rely on a pill
to make it all go away.

i swore to myself i’d never take them again
the pills
that made the bad not so bad
and the good, mediocre.

i wanted to feel
and wasted 3 years of my life
living a lie
telling myself it was ok
that i was ok
living like that.
similar patterns emerge
eating takeout alone
instead of calling friends to go out
in hopes better plans come through.

MAKE PLANS.
this is NY
i should be able to go out alone
but something is holding me back
i am my own worst enemy.
this is the first time i’ve written since i’ve moved
and won’t be the last.

you can go your own way.

i feel inspired
i want
i feel
awakened
like i’ve been sleeping
maybe not for the past 3 years
but close

i’ve started reading again
listening and finding music
photographing
being out
and today i wrote
for the first time
since i left
and it feels fucking great.

thanks new york
i may not always love you
but today
today
you’re my newest friend
and you’re kind of fun
so if it’s ok with you
can we hang out tomorrow
and maybe the next day too?

snow

seeing snow in central park can make you remember what life is all about.

i love you

…but sometimes talking to you is like pulling teeth.

just say what you mean.

i miss you

i do. i really do. 

i wish it was clearer.

cautious laughs

i think it’s hilarious that sometimes i take my birth control with beer.

the bachelor

home again
two beers down
following many phrases
involving balls
and girls
and sex

“you’re one of the guys
now”
they said
fist bumping me

i grunted
with acceptance
and celebrated
with another round of high fives.

i will love again.

i broke down in tears today when i talked about you to a friend. i still haven’t decided if it’s you, or the idea of you that i miss so much. i suppose it’s a little bit of both, but when i think about the reality of you. the future. i can’t think beyond our weekend together, and what it might be like just to have a few more of those weekend adventures but see other people. casual. friendly. just like us. 

but it could be the sex? the ever-complicating factor that i’ve managed to avoid all these years to spare myself the heartbreak or the utter pain of having to fall in love? could it be that i’ve fallen under the spell of being under another? have i had love without sex? can you? 

why have i been avoiding these things for so long? sex, love, relationships, men. why have i busied myself so much that i’ve rendered myself un-recognizeable to the hopeful, romantic young girl who wanted so much to fall in love and have a family? why have i pushed so much of what i want away, and attained what i never wanted to prove to myself that i can do it all. that i can be it all. be whoever i want, and not who i planned for.

there’s some truth in this weekend, some truth that has been long buried under the lies i tell myself to make it all ok. i need to hurt. i need to feel longing. i need to feel as though i need someone, i crave someone, that pushes me to get up off my fucking ass and do something about it. 

you can’t force love. this i know. but i know that i am more awake, more alive than i have ever fucking been after a weekend away with a man i used to love. 

could i love him again? maybe. but the better answer to the ever-present questions is yes. 

i can.
and i will.
love again.

promises.

unfailing optomism
from years of our parents
telling us we can do anything
be anyone
opportunities await. 

rushing to finish college
leaving friends
and so much of what i loved
behind
to pursue what i was promised
i could attain

i didn’t plan to end up
here
i suppose only a few do

but how is it
i am 25
worn out by achieving
so much
and
overwhelmed by choice. 
and how is it
that in planning life
i may have missed it.

i must be lying to myself

because i can’t seem to write what i feel. 

writer’s block is always the first indication. 

i really need to think.