because you are too precious to be left alone in the dark.

To Write Love on Her Arms

before i let you read this, i'm going to explain it. because i think it's worth explaining. so i'm starting college two weeks from tomorrow (or today, depending on how long it takes me to publish this post), and mom and i are doing some much needed organization. we've put a new desk in my room and a bookcase, and we cleaned everything off the floor and moved it into the office. the office already has a lot of stuff in it, but that's not the point. the point is, while i was cleaning i found several loose pieces of paper in the stacks of things i left next to my bed. it was dated april 5th 2013, which is, coincidentally, helayna's birthday. i started it at precisely 1:01am. and this is what it said. word for word. 

i make a lot of mental notes that i expect myself to remember even after long periods of time, and for the most part i don't. but the pieces to this fell into place so seamlessly it almost scared me. i wrote this for the person i would call my best friend. i didn't know who they were at the time (but i do now), and i think that's why this hits me the way it does. i cried when i read it because i remember how i felt when i wrote it. i felt lonely beyond words. and i'm posting it here for the girl who may not remember what the opposite of loneliness feels like. here is her secret, and here are my words. please understand that this poetry (but it's not even poetry tonight, it's my soul crying) is an interpretation of what these people are feeling. please understand that it is very real, and it is not always beautiful. loneliness is never beautiful, and no one deserves that. especially not this beautiful girl. i need to stop talking and let you read. if you don't read anything else on my blog that's fine. i don't mind. but this is important. 
"I sit in crowded rooms, surrounded by people. Nobody is alone or lonely because they all have someone to talk to, who loves them and they love back. They talk, talk, talk, overlook me. I am the only one without someone true to me, someone who loves me as much as I hate myself. I hate myself so much, so much that it explains why nobody loves me. It's hard to love this girl who hates herself. This girl that sometimes breaks her skin on those thighs she hates. Her thigh gap will never be good enough to her until it is the largest. Her thighs are her cutting board. But this girl has panic attacks over swimming because then people will see her thighs. This girl, with her eating disorder, who has always been thin, seems okay to everyone else. That is why they hate her. They think she is doing fine. She will quote them, here: "No offense, but I kind of feel as if you're using your eating disorder as an excuse. " No offense, what a lie. It's a mask to try and hide the cruelty, almost as sharp as her razor blade, but the mask is transparent. An excuse, oh sure. I just got a disorder so I could get out of gym class and go to the nurse. Right. I chose to ruin my life just to back up a point. And they wonder why I hate it when they make fun of disorders and don't know why I won't do them favors. Maybe if they hadn't made me hate myself I wouldn't punish myself. And I know this is just another published comment because I know I'm not worth listening to, let alone talking to. But a reply comment would literally make my day. People who talk to me astound me."
here's the thing:

i will not promise that i won't ever judge,
because i think it's my duty to distinguish what i believe is right and wrong.
i will always have a landline available for you to leave hasty and fragmented (or long and analytical) messages (because i can't promise i will always pick up the phone).
but when i do, i will always manage to keep it pressed to my ear though i may be cooking, changing clothes, or composing on the piano. 
thing is:
i want to be there. i want you to be able to tell me your darkest & deepest secrets and your musings and rants. i want to be able to suggest methods of brewing tea (or coffee) and scriptures that will explain things better than i can. 
and i always want to have my key in the door, ready to shelter you from the literal or symbolic torrent of rain. 
i will slap you when you need it. 
i will tickle you when you least expect it. 
i will murmur song lyrics (but only those written by coldplay) into your arms that strain the underlying melody that i love you, even more than "keep calm & carry on" memorabilia. 
my hands are always ready to brush your hair back, straighten the hold of your button-down, cup and caress your face and travel the world (that is your back) with the wingspan of my arms as if to say --
i am not perfect.
you are not perfect. 
but i will let you in my door, i will feed you, i will find you, because you are too precious to be left alone in the dark. 

to the girl who is astounded by people who talk to her: i love you. i love you so much. i don't know your name or who you are but i can honestly tell you i love you, and i believe that you are so beautiful. you have been made by a God who loves you so much sometimes He is astounded. He didn't make anyone else like you. you are worth more than all of the nice things this world has to offer. and i believe you have a love in you that shines brighter than a star in supernova. you can do this. i wouldn't tell you that if i didn't know that. maybe you don't know that, but it's a learning process. and i'm willing to learn with you. you can always talk to me, okay? i'm right here. i'll say it again: i love you. i do. 


the unforgotten frames.

there is nothing "forgotten" about these pictures. in fact, i want to remember them for a really long time. i just neglected to put them up. (which is so like me, by the way.) these are from my trip to michigan and illinois. i had a lot of fun. i don't know why i expected anything less.

street music.
i still can't fully grasp my trip in words. i haven't been on a plane since i was fourteen, and even though that's fairly recently i don't remember it much. now that i'm older and i'm returning to places i visited as a child, my memory has been refreshed. and i now know why i love it so much.
i think the only reason i was afraid is because of what happened last summer. and sometimes it's okay to be afraid.
sometimes the best thing is finding out you don't have to be anymore.

-kiss kiss kiss, can i be close to you-
{pea ess: i would've included the polaroids, but i don't know how to upload them on my mac.}
{pea pea ess: by the by, if you haven't noticed, i'm home from camp. and i have things to say about it. i just don't know what yet.}


i'm saying something.

it's almost as if when i say "things have been really hard lately and i can't explain that," things stop being really hard. at least in the specific area i'm referencing. and that's what happened a little after i wrote my last post. and it makes me wonder what the point was of saying anything. it makes me wonder if there was anything wrong at all. 

i think i was going to go somewhere with that and lead into the main point, but i can't find a way to put two and two together. i just saw something that made me think, and i want to talk about it. 

so i'm on my instagram and i'm one of those people who occasionally checks who likes my latest posts/how many likes, etc. (i probably do it obsessively, but i don't care.) and i noticed someone liked my post (it was a picture of plants) (i really like plants) who i didn't immediately recognize, so i clicked on their profile. (it was private. awkward.) fortunately, they had a blog link. and i clicked it. and it was this sweet girl. i didn't plan on scrolling much but i realized she only had like two posts, so i read them. and the second post really got my attention. it was amazing. 

i came to realize that when someone creates a blog, they often write an introduction post detailing what they're blog is going to be about, and then they write some cute, fluffy posts before really getting to their blog's content. i understand i can't say this for everyone, because everyone has different personalities and ways of approaching things, but this is what i've seen. 

madison's second post was about hurt. and it takes a lot of people a long time to get to the point of talking about it. maybe it's because they don't want to scare away their readers, maybe it's because it's not normally what they put out. sometimes people suddenly go against their flow and talk about something abnormal. maybe that's because they feel like they have to say something somewhere. maybe it's because they'll be eaten alive if they keep it in.  

i guess what i want to tell you is if you're hurting, please don't be afraid to say something. please don't feel the need to continue as if you're functionally properly when you're internally bleeding. in the blogging community that i know, people take the time to listen to you and try to understand what's going on. and even if you don't say something here, this applies to every area in your life. it took me months to tell someone i hated my body (again). and the fact that i stayed silent so long just added to the problem. so with whatever you're going through, even if you are afraid, talk to me. i'll listen. talk to someone you can trust. after all, you trust them for a reason. sometimes the first step is getting it off your chest. it's a part of letting go. 

i got the inkling{??} to write this post a few days ago, and since then i'd been battling off and on about whether or not i should post 4th of july photos or mention that i was up north for a week and a half. but i'm going to camp tomorrow, for two weeks. it's the same camp i've been going to since i was five years old. there won't be any guests posters this time, or scheduled posts. that's been tradition for a long time, i know, but i think now it's okay to deviate from that. 

i'm going to get myself back. it's been a long time coming, but it's here. 
i love you guys, and i hope all of you are doing okay, and if you're not, i trust you will be soon. 
-kiss kiss kiss, what to heq-


the forgotten frames || june.

i. helayna and i celebrated our one year anniversary on june 12th and i got a record player.
ii - vi. ate dinner at fuddruckers with my crazy yet adorable friends. i'm not responsible for some of those pictures.
vii. my sister really loves to read.
viii - xi. by the way, i got new glasses.
xii - xv. "we are such dorks. i love us."
xvi - xviii. these are my plants. their names are marcel, eponine, morticia and imogen. i love them a lot.

june has been one of the best months of my life. i graduated high school, spent a lot of money on a lot of different things
(including a new lens + tripod), and took naps. but things have been really hard lately. and i can't explain that.
at this rate, i'm just holding out for camp. only two more weeks.
-kiss kiss kiss, maleficent-
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