beforeyousay-blog

[beforeyousay-blog]

I guess I only write on here when I’m thinking about you. Last time I logged on you had been dead for about a month and it was your birthday. Again, it’s so surprising how much I think about you now that you’re gone. It’s also surprising how I remember the date of your passing so well. The one year anniversary is in 2 days. 

I’m going to text your mom something along the lines of “thinking of you all today; you’re all in my thoughts and prayers often” or something like that. It doesn’t seem fair that I am so sad about you now, because all I did was hurt you when you were alive. 

But you hurt me too; and that’s something that will never be brought up when people talk about you because nobody knows. But that’s a good thing. Sometimes that’s a good thing. 

I wish I hadn’t given your mom the picture of us and I wish she hadn’t given me your blanket. It smells like your house and I don’t know what to do with it. 

[beforeyousay-blog]

i forget how to write. Probably because I’m happy. That’s what I was worried about; that being content would make me less creative, less interesting. 

I don’t write about you enough. Because I’m always in the moment when I’m with you. The other day you took me out of time again. A comfy couch on a weathered porch, inside and outside; draped around you, I watched the wind sweep rain uphill, and felt mist on my face. I told you “these are my favorite conditions.” What I didn’t tell you was that on that porch, where you could see the whole block sloping up and down with the foothills, felt like the center of Virginia to me. I didn’t tell you how much I loved how opposite your ghost town was from my ghost town, especially because I’m used to being from where you’re from. I didn’t tell you how much I thought about what my life might be like if I went there. Would I feel unfulfilled or just relaxed and more happy. Maybe I would be smarter if I’d gone to a worse school. Also, I don’t think I got across to you how much I loved your room because it was exactly like you. I could pick it out of 1000 rooms if you asked me to. 

[beforeyousay-blog]

Two days ago I sat on my bed in my room in my new house and remembered that you were dead. I thought it was odd that I don’t cry about it but that the thought of you not being alive was still confusing and impossible to me. I thought that it must have been a month already and surprised myself that I remembered the exact date; I don’t usually remember the date of anything but I guess that’s one of the kinds that sticks with you. I wonder if it means I’m an adult now, that I have dates that don’t leave me. I thought I should write to your parents and couldn’t believe I hadn’t done that already. I realized then, as I was considering what I would say to them about their dead son, that it would be your birthday soon. The more I thought about it the more I realized that it might actually have already passed or it might be what was that day’s tomorrow. I was wrong it was that day, two days ago’s today.

Yesterday I sat in the Daily Grind with my friends to do my homework even though it didn’t make sense for me to study there since it was so far from my class and I only had an hour and had to move my car half way through. We’d picked that spot because there was nowhere to be in sadler and once Hannah Grace suggested it it sounded really good to me. I liked the atmosphere in there, it was quiet enough that we didn’t talk and distract each other but wouldn’t disrupt anyone if we made an occasional comment. There was soft indie music playing and I kept hearing songs that I thought I recognized as songs I really liked maybe last semester but of which I couldn’t remember the titles. I wanted to remember the names so badly I would stand up and go listen by the speaker but I still couldn’t quite make it out. My friends eventually left and as I sat by myself. I remembered the times I sat there last year and wrote about Theodore Roethke and how in my research I’d try to find some essay relating his poems to Hozier’s lyrics but I couldn’t. That wouldn’t have mattered for my paper anyway. I remembered a period during freshman year where all I thought about was decaying plants and human spirit and loved looking into swamp puddles as I walked through the trails on my way home from class. Then I heard a song that I definitely recognized. The song I played a million times last semester by the artist you introduced me to. That was when I thought I was in love with you. I thought about the other night when we finally talked at Mariah’s party. I say finally because you finally gave me the chance to be angry; I didn’t say it explicitly, but maybe you could hear it in my voice. I sat there, listening to that song, realizing that I’d stopped everything I was doing and I think I cried. It wasn’t fair that is was being played then, out loud to me and to everyone near me and not from the laptop speaker in my room, trapped in the space above my lofted dorm room bed where it belonged. The other night we hugged like we were saying goodbye, because although we swore to see each other before you go, I know and you know that we won’t. I’ve started to forgive you and you’re gone tomorrow. You belong to this part of my heart that tries and succeeds in forgetting you most of the time but is easily, and painfully reminded of you. I still think that song is about what love really is so it’s sad that it makes me think of you, of all people.

I was just looking on facebook at a memory posted by my sister when you and Savana and I did the rugged maniac race. I thought I looked pretty that day and always that those were some of the best pictures you and I had ever taken, since we usually looked like we didn’t know how to stand next to each other. One picture in particular you looked really good in, and it made me remember what it was like wanting to kiss you all the time. A few minutes later I was looking up symbology of flowers and found a page that described the different meanings behind different flowers and the specific meanings behind the colors of certain flowers. I came across a line that read “pink carnations mean ‘I’ll never forget you’”. That’s what I told Sara to tell you to get for me when you asked me to homecoming the first time: pink carnations. You also wore a pink shirt that day; I think I wore white and gray. It makes sense. Our love was pink if anything. Soft and amiable and very very delicate. How sad it is that we were destined to never work out, because lately I’ve been thinking that I’ll never find someone as good as you again.

I feel very calm in this dimly lit study room and I’m comfortable in this black leather chair. The other people at the other chairs and tables aren’t talking to me or looking at me and we’re getting along very well. It’s cloudy and humid and misty outside but from in here I can look out and pretend that it’s cold.

[beforeyousay-blog]

I buy panty hose at CVS and I know that they’re different than tights.

I go to buy a dress for my friends’ wedding, knowing I can’t wear the white ones that I like because it’s inappropriate. I say to my mom “I can’t wear black either” and she replies “You shouldn’t but people do it now anyway, at least they do on tv”

I buy a wedding gift knowing that it’s polite and probably expected. I wanted to get something heartfelt but I pick something boring: a tea kettle. I know once I wrap it that I should have bought tea to go with it.

I walk around DC looking for tissue paper.

I drive my truck around the city and I know which parking spaces it will fit in and which ones it won’t.

Hannah Grace and I take off our heels and walk the streets barefoot when we get blisters.

I ask “Do they chalk tires here?”

And “Am I wearing too much make up?”

I take off my large stud earrings because they make me look old.

I argue with TJ: “There’s always dancing at a wedding reception! It doesn’t matter how small it is”. We make a bet; he owes me five dollars.

We see our friends who are Lieutenants now.

The bride and groom are Lieutenants too.

The groom is deploying to Afghanistan in 3 days.

TJ says after that the ceremony was long; both Tanner and I agree that it was short compared to most.

I’m allowed to drink at the reception because they aren’t carding but I’m driving so I don’t.

We talk with Tanner about Freshman year and then drop him off at the metro.

I only fill up my tank $15 worth when I see how expensive the gas is.

I know to get back home we just have to get to 95 South and then 64 East, so I don’t really need TJ to give me directions.

TJ and I wear our dress clothes into Panera. I rest my head on his shoulder as we wait for our take out because sometimes it’s fun to pretend.

We plan to see “It” with Ryan and Audrey but neither of them want to. We say we’ll go anyway but we get home later than expected and decide that we’re too tired and don’t feel like getting scared.

[beforeyousay-blog]

Have you ever cursed something?

I cursed a friend once when he didn’t come to my pets funeral.

His date didn’t go well

Because my hermit crab willed it.

Have you ever cursed yourself?

Seen the end and did it anyway?

Have you ever said:

“If this doesn’t work, then I’m done”

When it didn’t work

Did you stop?

Have you ever wished yourself sick

And had your wish come true?

Have you ever been gentle to your body

Or your heart?

Have you ever cried hot tears

Missing lips on yours

Had a boy ask you out for icecream

Then felt your lips swell

To make you want it even more

Have you felt an itching ache

That starts behind your eyes

And goes all the way through your chest

And down your spine

It tickles almost

Have you ever thought about asking  

The boy who hurt you

(Not the last one, but the worst one)

“Did you ever want to take it back?

Did you ever think twice

Did you ever miss me

Did you ever want me like you did before

even once?

Am I a discardable person?

Am I a melt away listerine tab?

Burns hot and cold on your tongue for a minute

All you can feel for a bright second

Leaves you refreshed with your eyes open

Then leaves

No trace at all

Have you ever felt very alone?

[beforeyousay-blog]

So what do you want from me?

You said everything, but you definitely didn’t mean everything.

I took things from you and I would have taken everything from you.

But you didn’t notice.

All you did was give;

Your friendship, your sleep, your fucking understanding,

Your arms: the things that I needed.

But you didn’t need anything

Not anything you didn’t already have.

And you didn’t take anything from me

Not anything that hasn’t been taken before.

All you did was give

So my only question was

“When are you going to take it back?”

And you said “I won’t”

But I kept asking

So then you did.

[beforeyousay-blog]

I hear a song from Lorde and I listen to the words and I make it about me so that the next time I listen to it alone, by myself, I cry for the first time in a while. The way it makes my stomach hurt when she says “I’ll love you till my breathing stops” makes me ask for the millionth time if loving someone forever is pathetic or the only way to live. I ask myself again if it’s ever going to matter that you were and are my one. I promise myself that I’ll talk about you for the last time out loud but I swear I’ll love you a little bit in my head, by myself, no matter how many times you say no. You keep getting worse and worse and I keep remembering when you were perfect and when you told me I was perfect too. Most of me will say never ever trust you again but a very sad, small part of me (which is the part of us that loves someone) will always forgive you, will always scream yes when you tell me you’re sorry in my head. Did I give up because I’m proud? Because you’ve changed? Because I’m the only one who really believes it was real? But I said to you and few others that I was glad I kissed you that last time because I wanted to, I planned to. I said I wasn’t ashamed anymore and I meant it. Most of me will be friends with you, though not the same way as before. I will sit and talk to you whenever you remember that I’m the only one you ever talked to you. And if anyone ever asks if I’m in love with you I will say yes. But until then I will love you silently and against my best interest. I’ll smile when I see you, I’ll leave you be, I won’t remind you how you hurt me anymore. But if you ever ask if I love you I’ll say yes.

[beforeyousay-blog]

One day she had thin shoulders. You could tuck your fingers into the gentle well atop her pronounced collar bones and her breasts were small but supple. She looked somehow boyish and feminine in a relaxed fit t shirt. Maybe she wore a baseball cap. She looked great in a romper.

 One day she was very fit. She had a toned tummy and a waste whittled by side crunches. Her breasts never seemed too large but she somehow always had cleavage when she wore a triangle bikini. She had a smooth round butt that was mostly due to her great genes but maintained with squats. Her hips got wider than her shoulders when she went through puberty. Girls on instagram tell her she’s perfect.

 The next day she had a line down her upper abs but a handful of fat around her lower belly and on her sides, the kind that boys say they like to grab onto. When she wore a sports bra some flesh around her shoulder blades protruded around the edges of the elastic. Her hips weren’t very much wider than her waist really but her butt looks big in cut off shorts. Some friends say she has an athletic build, one friend says she’s slim thicc, one boy said she had the body of a greek goddess. Her boobs are too big for her to wear bralettes but she does it anyway.

 One day she admitted that she went through a period where she didn’t eat as much as she wanted.

 One day she said she fluctuated easily and could lose weight fast because of her small frame.

 One day she couldn’t run fast anymore because she felt so heavy.

 She always hated her big muscular legs.

 She always hated her fat on the inside of her thighs.

 She always loved her legs because her sister said they were perfect but one day she didn’t anymore.

 One day she stared at herself naked for an hour.

 One day when she asked why her mom could lose weight and she could not.

 One day a boy called her chubby when she had no more fat to lose.

 One day her friend drew a cartoon of her where her thighs were bigger than everyone else's.

 One day she was the only girl that didn’t pass height/weight because of muscle mass and she was proud.

 One day she bought a dress labeled large on a new york street corner and when it didn’t zip up over her broad ribcage she said out loud “I hate myself”.

 One day a boy oversexualized and obsessed over her and she thought it was love and so did he.

 One day he asked how she could be so hot, irresistible even; then one day he didn’t speak to her again.

[beforeyousay-blog]

Person 1 is 18 years old about to turn 19.

 Person 2 is 18 years old about to turn 19.

 Person 1 is in ROTC at my school but a grade lower. We’ll both be officers. When we get back to school I’ll be in charge of him.

 Person 2 is in ROTC at a different school but thinks he is dropping out after next semester. He wants to go to basic in the spring and join the national guard. He also at some point would like to be a dive welder or a shipyard welder. He at least believes he has his life planned out.

 Person 1 has no idea what he wants to do. All of the ideas are pretty romantic. Like a secret agent or a tomb raider or a director. I resonate with this since I don’t at all know what I realistically want to do. But my dream is to do something in the film business.

 Person 2 has a shop in his basement where he has made a handle for an ax and his own chainmail. Right now he’s fixing up a jeep he bought. Every day he sends me a snap of his face with grease all over it.

 Person 1 just got his driver’s license. Before he came to school he did not know how to do laundry. My friend Andrew taught him how to use an oven a few weeks ago. After that I taught him how to use a dishwasher and how to make eggs.

 Person 2 has a sweet mother who is friends with my mother; they both teach yoga. His father is quiet; he’s a paramedic. He doesn’t talk about his parents much. I don’t think he knows how to talk to them either. Me and Sydney were the ones who told him how to get through the college application process. It’s not that his parents didn’t care; I think they just didn’t know. I think they sometimes ask him if he’s dating me. They don’t call anymore when he stays over late. I’ve never been over there.

 Person 1 was raised on an army base in Japan. His father is a lieutenant colonel; his mother is japanese I don’t know what she does. He told me last time we were in the car together that he’d sit in the back because that’s what he did when he drove with his mother. He said he and his parents didn’t ever talk in the car. Not even long rides. When I asked more questions he admitted that he had at times gone days without talking to them. He didn’t think it was weird. His parents have slept in separate beds for years.   

 Person 2 has one older sister; she went to the school I go to. He used to want to go there too.

 Person 1 has one younger brother. He looks a lot like him. He loves him a lot you can tell by the way he talks about him.

 Person 2 wasn’t super popular in high school and always thought that I was. But really both of us only felt at home at cross country practice. That’s where we met.

 Person 1 says he wasn’t even included with the cross country kids. He said all his friends were older.

 Person 2 has had one girlfriend in 8th grade I think. Since then I think he’s fooled around with a few girls. Last time I checked he was still a virgin. He’s liked me for a while

 Person 1 is not a virgin but he still won’t tell me if he was before. We had a talk on the beach once about past loves. He’s never had a real girlfriend. He has been a homewrecker before. And he loved a much older girl for a long time and still might. He ended the conversation saying relationships were dumb; but that’s a word he uses generously when he isn’t saying what he means. He also said that he would be a bad boyfriend.

 Person 2 probably would also say he’d be a bad boyfriend. He’s way too optimistic though about the prospect of us dating while we’re both at school.

 Person 1 mumbles a lot and often doesn’t repeat what he said when I ask him to. He explained it’s because sometimes things he says are meant for only himself.

 Person 2 said the exact same thing a week later. He mumbles too.

 Person 1 worries about looking dumb a lot

 Person 2 worries about seeming like a putz or a child

 Person 1 will sleep for 13 hours on a regular night if uninterrupted

 Person 2 says he wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t have to

 Person 1 will sit and whine with me for an hour while we try to agree upon a movie to watch

 Person 2 keeps inviting me to go hiking and cliff diving

 When I went to the store with person 1 I had to tell him the get Claussen pickles

 A week later person 2 pointed out to me that Claussen is the only brand of pickles. I agreed.

 Person 2 and have the exact same stance on religion

 Person 1 has a similar stance too but he argued with my reasoning anyway even before I finished my first sentence

Person 2 likes to pick up millipedes

 Person 1 is very grossed out by dead fish

 Person 2 jumps across rocks like a mountain goat

 Person 1 scaled the bathroom wall in digges to climb onto the roof. One time he tried to show me how and we broke the sink off the wall.

 Person 2 claims he knows how to make a mean steak.

 Person 1 only knows how to saute mushrooms.

 Person 2 jokes about wanting me to when I say I’m gonna hit him

 Person 1 actually does ask me to hit him. He hits people with things a lot when he gets bored. Aside from that though he’s usually very relaxed.

 Person 2 can’t really sit still for very long. He still watches netflix with me all the time.

 Person 1 is always bored so we have to make up things to do. Once we played couchlympics and pushed the four couches to make a mega couch and played a series of couch games. The last round was wrestling. He was surprised I wasn’t easy to beat. We wrestled for an hour before he asked if he could kiss me.

 Person 2 didn’t kiss me but after two beers he finally got the courage to try to put his arm around me.

 Person 1 wasn’t great at kissing at first. I had to sort of reteach him. But now it’s great. Before I left he kissed me like he really meant it.

 Person 2 wanted to kiss me. I told him I couldn’t. But now every time I look at him that’s all I want to do.

 Person 1 told me that he gets bored talking to most people but he doesn’t get bored talking to me

 Person 2 said I’m the only person he’s ever really opened up to.

 Person 1 plays the ukulele and is a decent artist

 Person 2 thrifts at goodwill

 Person 1 thinks it’s a sin that I watch Totoro in English and always jokes about me being culturally insensative

 Person 2 knows all the songs that come on the classic rock station. We like a lot of the same music.

 Person 1 thinks it’s interesting that I know so many 70’s songs

 I was the one who gave person 2 his nickname in high school. It was just his last name but we would yell it really loud like he’d done something wrong. I don’t call him by his last name anymore

 I used to call person 1 by his last name too. I was his squad leader last year. I was asking for him by his last name before I even met him, because he was late. He showed up with long hair. His hair is in a weird stage right now because he’s trying to grow it out again. 

 Person 2 has this perfect curly Frank Sinatra cowlick. He’s a dreamboat. He’s still the most similar person I’ve ever met to my dream man, Nick Miller.

 Person 1 once sang City of Stars with me as we fell asleep in TJ’s room because we’d both been sexiled. I thought then that I could marry him.

 Person 2 and I have a friend that would be very mad if we did anything irresponsible

 Person 1 and I have a friend who would be furious if he found out about us. It also might look bad for me to date him.

 Either I’m going to ruin one of them or the other one is going to ruin me.

[beforeyousay-blog]

Two days ago I lost my temper because the tickets weren’t printing right and I couldn’t figure out how to switch out the cartridge. I was so angry I cursed the printer repeatedly and even slammed my fist against it.

Last night the dress I bought for 25 dollars at the street fair in Times Square did not zip up over my giant torso. I said out loud several times that I hate myself. I stared at the dress in my closet trying to figure out how a garment that big could ever be too small for me.

I had a great day with Sara yesterday. But there were a few times when I really hated her. When she looked at a picture of herself and said confidently and knowingly that she was cute. When she bought a size 27 pair of shorts and they were way too big on her. When she asked repeatedly about how she looked in another picture until I almost screamed. When she offered the shorts to me but I had to respond that they’d probably be too small for me. Especially when she lifted up her shirt in the Wendy’s bathroom and danced around admiring her tan and fatless stomach, then shrugged and walked out.

[beforeyousay-blog]

The only person I want to be around is Ryan. I don’t know why I’ve even allowed myself to say that. But I’m happy in that house when I’m with him. But nothing has happened because I’m terrified of him. I feel like a parasite just living off of his naïveté. I love that he doesn’t know what he wants to do. I love that he always pretends to be mad at me. I also love when he tries to make me feel better or when he’s nice just because. I love that we do stupid stuff together and I don’t feel bored around him. He really makes me feel young. Probably because he doesn’t know anything about me. 

[beforeyousay-blog]

Sometimes I pretend that it’s fun to be in love with you. I had a fantasy about you yesterday when I was driving back from New York City and Sara was sleeping. All that happened was that I was talking to you and you were acting like you were glad that you knew me. That’s all I hope for now. Not mattering is the worst feeling I’ve ever felt.

I know that everything you say is just a quote from some episode that I haven’t seen yet or haven’t seen in a while. But that leaves me to discover little pieces of you on accident. The only thing I’m safe from are things you haven’t watched. Even I say the things you say around people who don’t know you. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. It’s catchy, the sounds that come out of your mouth and the way you string them together. You are the most unique person I have ever met. Not because you’re special or great or even good but because I know I’ll never meet anyone like you ever again. That makes it worse to lose you. And I’ll keep losing you over and over. 

[beforeyousay-blog]

I feel like I may finally be ready to say something real. But it hurts a lot. I don’t know if I want to relive it all. I have been pushing through everything and breaking down to wake up stronger the next morning. And now that I can relax I’m realizing how sore I am. I feel battered and bruised and betrayed and used. And even though I know how happy I can be and how lucky I am, I feel sad for everything that has happened. I am sitting in a blank room in a chair looking at my heart on the floor. And it’s so sad. And I’m so afraid for what I may allow to happen to it next. It’s like my body doesn’t know how to take care of it anymore. 

Elena’s body really doesn’t know how to take care of her heart. Her brain and her heart aren’t communicating well. I can’t think of that as a real thing. The thought of her 

The thought of her being that scared is overwhelming. The thought of her being unsafe is too much to bear. 

[beforeyousay-blog]

So I’m home. And I’m feeling just like I thought I would. So full of possibility and longing and so so lonely. I let another tv show take me for a ride and rip my heart out. I don’t know if it’s possible for me anymore. I have feelings for Ryan and I’m not allowed to. I don’t remember how I feel about Kevin but I’m worried that something will happen there too. And he’s busy today. What’s stopping me from kissing him tonight. Why would I do that when all of me wants to be back in Williamsburg. And I feel like I’m just floating above my home because I don’t live here anymore. I want to settle in but I have an unread resume waiting in an inbox to decide my summer for me. I was so ready to come home. Is it the internship pulling me away or is it Ryan. Do I feel anything real for either of them? Or do I just want to be with anyone. Anyone who makes me feel young and happy. I can’t lose anymore friends but my heart is so broken and feels so unwanted. My biggest fear is that I will hurt Kevin or that Ryan will hurt me. Or that I’ll hurt TJ or Sydney or Audrey by being reckless. But at the same time I want all that to happen. The worst thing really would be if it worked out with either of them and I would still think of you. I miss you.

[beforeyousay-blog]

“I came to visit, cause you see me like a UFO”

why do I only love men who look at me just like that

[beforeyousay-blog]

Last night at school. I’m half way through college. Our room is mostly bare now. The posters we spent hours hanging up came down quickly and won’t share a wall again. But I can’t tell if my heart is empty or full. I don’t know how I’ll avoid Jacob, or if I’ll see Wesley or Izzy or Mariah. I hope I do. Will I still be the one to reach out to Wes even though I said I wouldn’t. Will TJ and I watch the spaghetti westerns after all. Did my brother turn in the papers I spent hours writing. Should I be sad about the friends I’m losing, the ones that are leaving, the ones I’m pushing away. Is it enough that some are coming back? Am I awake because I’m excited to move into a real home tomorrow? Or am I terrified for things to change. Will I be able to make Will’s room my own; will they leave their pledge paddles on the wall. Can I not sleep because I’m not done packing. Or can I not sleep because I’m thinking about sleeping in my old bedroom back home. I couldn’t sleep well when I was little.

Why does nothing feel safe but Yates 205 and the yard outside Mrs. Donita’s church?

[beforeyousay-blog]

Mackenzie saw it move and shrieked. I asked if it was one of those shower bug type things and felt pure dread when she said yes. There was a moment when we both thought it was dead, but it wasn’t. Then we chased it around a few corners until it snuck away under the bed or behind the dresser. It got away, and it’s still here somewhere in or room. As I type on my lofted bed it’s somewhere beneath me.

I hate those things. Some insidious cross between a spider and a centipede and what’s worse is they have almost no substance. They scurry around so weightlessly you’d think they were phantoms. And when you crush them you realize they have no insides they shrivel up and disappear like they were never alive in the first place. Looking at the way they move and the way they disappear, I’ve never been more certain a thing was soulless.