This empty page mocks me again, still, as always. I'm not even sure that I have anything worthwhile for this world anymore. I don't have any enlightening things to say. I don't have any ideas, or anything amazing to relate. I am living. I get up each morning and I do roughly the same thing as I did the day before, and the day before that, and the month before that, and the same thing that I will no doubt do tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and the month after that. I will continue to live the same day, with the same people, with the same petty problems and I will keep complaining because my life is so mediocre that I could scream. I feel like I'm in this tiny carefully built cage that does not allow me any hope of ever escaping it. And it is smothering me, and it is changing me. I have always been this girl, this girl that feels like she could literally burst at the seams. I am too much for this life. I am begging, pleading for something more, something that not only means more, but is more. I need that fairytale. I need that intrigue. I want to be the heroine in every one of those stories that I used to read when I was little. Who am I kidding? I want to be that heroine that is in every one of those books that I still read today. I want to kick ass and save the day. I want to explain something that no one else could. I want to save something. But in this small town. And in this small life. We don't get to save anything but ourselves. And I did that. It wasn't really amazing. It wasn't really attention worthy. I simply survived. I'm not sure it even constitutes as saving. At the end of it all, it was just another day. I lived. I lived to love another day. But I also lived to question love again. And always. I wonder if I will ever encounter a man where love does not fade. A man where love simply gets bigger and bigger until it could burst the seams of my life once and for all. Not that it would make my life any more, or my world any better, it would simply show me that there is something worth bursting for, something worth losing everything for. But I am forever unsure of whether that love truly exists. Does true love, that be all and end all of love really exist or is it a bullshit fairytale? I want to believe in it so badly, but I wonder if my past has not rendered me incapable. Could I be blind to it even if I do have it? I think that is what scares me the most in this world, allowing the past to ruin my present, or my potential future. This love has faded, as they all did, regardless of how differently I treated it, or how blindly I believed in it in the beginning. I did not put any barriers up this time, it could bloom to be anything that it desired, but it stopped just short of opening in to the amazing rose that it was supposed to be. So was his mistake that he showed me that he wasn't perfect, or that I wanted him to be perfect in the first place? Oh how this existence confuses me.

He made me want to see how amazing love could be again, but in the end maybe he simply showed me that love isn't everything. Love just is.

So this is me knee deep in the aftermath of second (or possibly third) love realizing that sometimes you can't explain it. Sometimes you can't put it in words and make sense of how you are feeling. Sometimes the words jumble up all meaning that it had in the first place. Because I love him, but now I have to come to terms with the fact that I am no longer in love with him, and don't quite know how to get back.

Love always,
JL

And I bid farewell to my bitterness, for you were never worth it in the end.

It's hard looking back sometimes. It's hard to come back here and read the words of a girl that gave everything she was to a boy that didn't want her. A boy that never deserved her. Whoever that girl was, she doesn't exist anymore. That girl that would give anything, change anything, be anything for love no longer exists. She died the day she realized who that boy truly was. I will fully admit that I was that girl. I was that dreamer that wanted to believe that there was some good in all people, that even if someone did something bad, that there was a reason behind it. No person was malevolent or mean at heart, they were simply lost. After the events of the past year and a half I can say that some people harbor an evil within them that cannot be explained, and cannot be fixed. There are liars, and abusers and worthless human beings in this world. He was one of them. So this is my last letter to him. A hardened goodbye that until today I have been too scared to attempt to write. Because giving up on him, on us, on a 'forever and always' is difficult and scary. But with a clearer mind and a clearer understanding of the world, and of people I can honestly say that I never intend to be a part of his life, nor want him to be part of mine, ever again.

To my first (love/mistake),

It's almost amazing how freeing this last year and a half has been without you. I've done things and experienced things that I feared, because of you or because I was with you. I've grown more as a person in these past months than I grew in the four years we were together. For a long time I didn't think that I would ever be able to move on from the pain that you purposely inflicted on me. I didn't think that I ever could, or ever would, or would ever want to love another person again. You changed me in ways that I don't really want to admit. From the day I was born I trusted in people. I trusted that people were good at heart, that even if people did bad things, they did them for good reason. I had a faith in mankind that was unchangeable, or so I thought. And then I met you, the real you. At first I blamed it on me. I blamed it on the fact that you could never love a person like me, that I had done something wrong. I don't believe this anymore. After a solid year of not having contact with you I do believe that I am better for it. Your lies and your deceptions shrouded my entire life. You broke me. And I fixed me. Alone. While you went running full-fledged into the arms and heart of another, I let myself heal. I let myself grow to be who I now know myself to be. I'm still not the girl that I intend to be, nor am I perfect, or unflawed, or even completely happy. But I am myself. And you have hardened me to lies. I hope that someday you wake up from the miserable life that you built for yourself and you realize that I was right all along. You are just a scared little boy that doesn't know how to be alone. And I think at some point we all are. We all need that defining moment where we must stand on our own two feet. It's terrifying, to know that you don't have anyone else in the world, but it is amazing as well. To be able to say that I overcame you is probably one of my greatest feats. I overcame a man that waltzed into my life, deceived me, changed me, and made me do things I would never ever do on my own. I overcame a man that broke me. I wish just one more time I could look you in the face and tell you everything I think of you. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, that I want to tear you down just like you tore me down. But I think what I would have to say would hurt more than anything you ever launched at me. Because the only things that I would ever need to say would be thank you. Thank you for pushing me to see that all people are not good at heart. Thank you for forcing me to stand on my own two feet. Thank you for making me feel so fucking amazing. And thank you for allowing me to find real love. Not juvenile love, not necessary love, but love. Love where a man WANTS me, DESIRES me, APPRECIATES me. You make every man in the world look amazing in comparison. All I have to realize is that hey, can't be any worse than that first one right? You see, now I have rules that I do follow. And if a man EVER lies to me, cheats on me, or hits me again I have you to thank for the fact that I will not have a second thought in picking up and leaving in an instant. I will never again let a man treat me the way that your young stupid ass believed you could. I am someone you would no longer recognize. I'm not scared of the world anymore. I'm not scared of what people think, or how they react to me. I'm me… take it or leave it. And I hope you rot in hell for what you did to me…and what I no doubt believe you will continue to do to any girl you "love". Because some people were never meant to love. You asked me once if I thought that the world was better off without you. I answered no. Even then I knew I lied. So I'm finally letting go, not of you, but of the memory of you. I've held myself back because of what you did to me for far too long. I've met people that were far better than you and I still did not trust them, because you made me mistrust the world. But I'm done with your lies, and I'm done with you still influencing this me… this new amazing me. If I could go back in time and change one thing it wouldn't be loving you, it would be trusting you. But I can't, so I can only live and learn. Live my life free of your influence, and learn to trust that these other men are not you. Trust that these men are not liars, or abusers, or fuck-ups. Because that's who you are and who you are destined to always be. I'm the completer and you are the destroyer. Polar opposites, that attracted for far too long. Go bring someone else's world down because mine is standing unscathed finally. You couldn't affect it if you tried. I love NOT loving you.

Forever and always,

Jenny

Defining Love in Longwinded Verses

I swear I may be the only person left in this world that holds love to such a high degree of importance. I feel as if I don't breathe correctly without him. I feel as if the last month and a half has not even existed, like my life was put on hold and nothing I did matters or even happened. Without him, the world was dark, and I was not me. Nothing made any kind of logical sense, it just was. And it was impermanent. I knew from the second that my world fell apart and he left me begging and crying for him, that this would not last for the rest of my days. I let the love of my life walk away from me. I let him run, full fledged and faster than I could ever imagine keeping up with, away from me. And I did this only because I know the power of love, and I knew that he loved me. I knew that one day he would wake up and realize that he was missing something, and that that something was me. Some would probably say that I didn't know this, that I merely hoped it, but I stand firm in my belief that I did know. If I had not, I probably would not have survived this. In hindsight I'm surprised that I did survive, because for a month and a half I did not breathe. He was my air, and he was nowhere to be found. I'm still a diehard believer in love now, maybe more so seeing the recent events unfold in front of my eyes. The world brightened, and there he was, standing there with that smile and tears in his eyes. The man that I lost long before he ever ran away was suddenly standing before me again with arms wide open and opportunities up his sleeve. Did I want him back? Would I accept him? Hadn't I always?

And so we begin again. A new slate, or maybe just a clean yet partially tarnished used one. We will move on from this still hurting and a little bruised from our time apart. But we will try again, if only for the sake of trying. I need him in my life, I want him in my life, and nothing will stop me again. The ultimate question remains: Is love ever enough? God I hope so.

Love is a concept that I'm not sure I will ever justly define. It's a feeling that you get deep down inside for a person that changes you. It rearranges all the little compartments in your heart until you realize that not even one would be quite perfect without that person in your life. There would be holes everywhere, and no reparations could fix it completely. Love hurts more than anything else in the world, it tears you to pieces and stomps on the shards left on the floor. It also makes every second of that torture worth it. Love is the be all and end all of life. Without it, there is no life. Maybe I'm the only person on earth gullible enough to go there, but I believe that love is the only thing in this world that can save us. Unfortunately, it can kill us just as easily. I'd rip my heart out and give it to him, and I may already have.

So here's to love, and ripping our hearts out to give it meaning,

J-L

Ruling or being ruled?

How amazing it must be to know your place in this intricately complicated world that we live in. I have to wonder if anyone really KNOWS their place though. Sometimes we think we have the entire picture figured out. There are no hazy edges or blurry spots that can be misinterpreted, and then suddenly the pictures fades, changes, rearranges, and spews forth a blurry mess we can no more decipher than we can like it. And we must unravel the mess all over again, we must figure it all out and hope to god the same thing does not happen again. This is what life is like when you let it rule you.

The indefinable first love

Love is something that is indefinable. I guess to most people it's an action, to others it's a concrete thing, and to even fewer others it is simply a way of life. It's hard to pin down what it means or what it is or even how someone should go about speaking of it to the world. If I know only one thing about love it is that it undergoes vast changes. It withers, it grows, and sometimes it even dies; should it then be considered an entity? I've been the girl that envied those that had found love my entire life. I've watched couples bicker and banter between each other and kiss in the end, and wondered with great awe how such a relationship came to be. And then I grew up, and I got to be one of those people. I got to bicker and banter and even fist fight and still end the night within his arms. I could look him in the eyes and tell him my deepest, darkest, most disgusting secrets, and to my amazement he would kiss me and everything would be fine. I felt love, I held it, I touched it, I nurtured it, and I watched it progress to a point I never thought possible. It took over my world, it engulfed everything that I knew and everything I ever wanted to be. He was the only thing that I was sure of. And then that love withered, and it died. A funeral should have commenced, or may have actually been conducted in my mental absence. He did not/ does not/ will not love me. And the world is suddenly off kilter. No solid ground can be sought, nor can it ever be found. This is the part they never mention in the fairytales. This is the fine print on the bottom of the contract to your heart. Being in love, feeling it, knowing what it really is deep down inside. Being able to caress it, to know without a doubt that it does exist, that it is capturable, that you can have it. This all comes at a higher price than most would have ever been willing to pay. Knowing true happiness, true completeness is out there, can only be proven if you are willing to one day lose that. Love comes at a great cost, because eventually love ends. It dies, sometimes by natural causes, sometimes by suicide, but mostly its murder. He killed it. He took a knife straight to my heart. Contract voided. Love lost, life still keeps on going though. And nothing will ever be the same, because now I am not enlightened by love, I am broken by it. Knowledge comes at a great cost. If I could turn back time and never let him in, it would be tempting to say that I would do it. But is it not true, that even if it was not him, it would have been another. I would have been hurt by another, probably sooner. There is no escaping it. And unfortunately there is no cure. Is it better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all? I doubt even one of us could ever discover this answer. We will all be one day broken by love, and if you are not, I dare you to allow yourself to be broken by it. I will love him for the rest of my days. I will look back on these days and cry, tears breaking loose without abandon. I will never love to such a degree again. First love, young love, untainted all out love, is different than just love. Loving before you have ever been hurt is something you will never again experience. It's pure, it's addictive, and its set on a path of destruction from day one. So love wholeheartedly, but remember: love dies just like we do. It blossoms, it withers, it self-destructs, and one day it will be gone.

Backwards Realities Never Were My Favorite.

So when the world goes topsy turvy this is where I stand my ground. I tell my secrets without abandon, hoping some answers will be found. Maybe I'm a little crazy, a little too perfect to live in this fucked up world. The only thing I ever wished to be, was to always always be his girl. And this rhyming is getting out of tune already… so here's my saga I hope your ready.

I've been with a man for almost 4 years… almost being the key word here. Our anniversary is august 3^rd, today is July 29^th. He broke up with me with no warning, no reason, and no care 3 days ago. Looked me straight in the face and told me that he didn't love me, that maybe he never really had. And my world melted. It lost all reason, all purpose, everything. We were on our way back from vacation. I didn't even get to unpack my bags before I was forced out of my home. Days went by without communication, until I had a few drinks and decided that I wasn't going to be silenced on this topic anymore. I didn't care what he'd done, I wanted him back. He still didn't want me. And I wouldn't give up, so he says something that tears my world to pieces once again. I cheated on you. 4 words, 5 syllables, yet groundbreaking. At first I didn't believe a word he said. I didn't see his face because he did it over the phone so I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't. So we arranged a time to talk. I sat waiting for an hour and a half before I got the phone call. He was at the police department. He had changed the date on his expired motorcycle 30 day tags, was carrying an ample amount of marijuana, and would be in jail a few days. Could I call his mom? Could I call his boss? Could I pick him up? I wasn't his girlfriend anymore. He'd done who knows what with who knows who who knows when. I wasn't his lifeline, and yet somehow I was. I called him mom, she called his boss, and she picked him up. And somehow I came running back to him when he got home. He wanted to talk, about what we were going to do now that our relationship was over. I wanted to talk, about how we were going to make this work. I WAS BEGGING HIM FOR ANOTHER CHANCE. We have to have entered a topsy turvy world where yes means no and everything is backwards. It made no sense. He did the unmentionable. And I was apologizing, I was going to change for him?

Here's the part where all you readers get pissed at ME. You tell me not to be THAT girl. You tell me to pick up whats left of me and walk away. Kick him in the balls, slap him across the face and move on to something better that I deserve. That's what I'd be feeling if I read this. Writing this is different. For the first time in my life, I know without a doubt and without pause that I love this man. He's screwed up right now. He's on a disaster path that's leading him to somewhere that he likes. He wants to be alone… wanted maybe is the key word. You never really realize what you want until it's gone, or leaving. So yelling and screaming that I loved him, that I would always love him, that he made a mistake but he could fix it, only tonight. And now he's kicking himself in the balls, and slapping himself across the face, and telling me to move on to something better that I deserve. He is marveling at the power my love for him has. I will not listen to a word you have to say, and I'm sorry, but I'm a smart person. I have an IQ that is off the charts and I've aced every class I've come across, unless of course I didn't feel the need to summon up the effort. My friends would describe me as the genius, the smart one, the one that always knows what to do. But from the day I was born, I listened to my heart, not my head.

I feel broken in two. I feel as if our relationship will never be quite what it was before, because I have this stuck in the back of my head. There will always be her, when I'm undressing, when I'm kissing him, when I'm making love to him. To some degree the thought of her will not go away, at least for a while. As for him, is he to be trusted? I say yes, but again that's my heart speaking. It is my belief that he hit a psychological break and wanted to let loose all ties to all those around him. I was the only one that wasn't going to go willingly, so he did the one thing we both thought would seal the deal on this relationship. I said from day one my only two rules were don't hit me, and don't cheat on me. Those are the only reasons I would leave without a second thought. I was wrong. As was he. This may prove to be our undoing in the end, but for now I'm being strong because I think in the end of all this bullshit, and when all the backwards curtains are pulled and the world is as it should be, there will be happiness on the other side. Call me stupid, call me whatever you want, I'm in love and for the first time I don't care what other people think about my decisions. I might be wrong, but I'm okay with that.

And so we wait, for the final ball to drop, or for the scene to reverse back to reality. We wait to see if love really is enough in this fucked up world. We wait to see where we go from here… these are the days you marvel at your own strength, and also your own weaknesses. I love him, but this makes me fucking hate myself. This will be a long road but it's brightening a little everyday. Maybe that romance in him will return. Maybe he'll come home and sweep me off my feet. Maybe he'll make me love myself again someday. We just have to wait and see.

-JL

Loving him and losing it.

My Pieces

Over the course of growing up I was probably asked over a hundred times what kind of person I am. Am I giver, or a taker, a liar or a faker. I've been given a thousand comparisons to choose from. Black and white reminders of categories that no real person could ever fit in. I was told from day one that I had to fit into categories. I had to be… something. I had to be able to explain exactly what kind of person I was in order to decide what kind of person I wanted to someday be. Today I finally realized who I was. And to be quite honest, it has nothing to do with the bullshit cookie cutter places they wanted to shove me into. I am a very unique person, one that has intrinsic value that is lost on most people. Those are the ones that vanish from my life without many second thoughts. They move on before they realize what I have to offer them. I don't really blame them, I'm just realizing exactly what it is that I possess, what kind of value I hold to this amazingly fucked up world. So what is it you might ask? What is it that I have to give to you? The answer is a piece of me.

I've skirted around this idea that I started as a whole person, and that I've lost pieces of myself along my long journey of life. I've talked it to death in previous journals, but I never really gave it any depth. I never really structured the idea in the sense that I intend to now. Before I get too deep into this I want to issue a small disclaimer. I do not intend this to increase my social, or even intrinsic value to the world. I am not spewing these mostly useless words to prove to you that you should be in my life, or that somehow I am worth more than you. I just made a profound realization in my life, and its brought me to a place of finality somehow. It has brought me to a place where I can be me, I can be comfortable, and I can feel as if, in the long run maybe I do mean something. So here is my normal incoherent babble for you to muddle through with (dis)interest.

I'm one of those people that has always always felt like there is something profound missing from my life. I walk around seeking that final piece day after day, and I will find things that feel right, and I will keep them, and still that hollow piece in my heart pangs to be filled. I used to blame it on losing my father at such a young age. I thought that I would never fill the hole that he left me with. I've realized that is not the case. I love my father, and in some way shape or form he is still with me every day of my life. He is proud of me, he loves me, and somewhere out there he is waiting for me to return to him. Am I bitter? Absolutely. Do I hate the world sometimes still? Everyday. Do I feel empty because of it? No. I feel a lot of things about my father, but not one of them is emptiness. I'm almost overflowing at the brim with memories of him. I will never lose that. So why do I feel so empty? The answer lies within the kind of person I have found myself to be.

I am selfless to a degree that I'm not sure I can explain in words. I am the friend that will never give up on you. I am the person that will give up anything to make you feel better, even in detriment to my own well being. I am the one that will give my life for yours, and think about it a little too late and a little too little. This sounds weird even as I type it out about myself, because I'm a bitch. I tell it how it is. I call you on your bullshit. I get heated and upset a lot. My tolerance is high, but when I explode, I decimate whatever lies within reach. I'm real. So maybe this is the price you pay for the goods you receive from me. I give up a part of my soul to everyone I touch… a part of my heart.

I will always be empty to some degree, because the pieces of myself that I long for lie within the people of my past. I give a part of myself to each person, a different part, a necessary part that makes their life a little easier to deal with. Maybe this is why I find it hard to let people in my life go because in an essence I am giving up on me. I am giving up on the parts of me that I felt I could do without. I love so deeply and so passionately that I do not see giving these pieces of myself away as anything great. I see it as necessary. A need. I love doing it.

Everyone I love holds a piece of me that I will never get back. And I realized today that they are better for it. They have never, nor will they ever again, have a person like me in their life. I love them more than I can fathom loving myself. All of them. All of you. Even the ones I have yet to meet, I love you for all your fucked up little quirks. I love you for your empty chambers that I can no doubt fill with another interesting part of me. I can be whatever you need me to be. Because I don't need to be anything other than that.

My haphazard past has led me to many places, and I could probably not trace it back if I tried. My pieces lie like breadcrumbs in the hearts of those that I have touched, and even if I sought to find each and every piece, I do not have the heart to take those pieces back. They needed those pieces, more than I did, and more than I will ever need them again. All those versions of me, they still exist out there within these people. Maybe I'm getting a little existential on you guys, but there are a thousand versions of me out there conquering the world. There are a million of me affecting the world still today, because each person with a piece of me, no doubt passes that part of me along to those they come into contact with. It's a strange little Jenny chain saving lives and hearts out there. This sounds crazy, and like I'm full of myself, but I feel good.

I feel great for the fact that I am worth something. I am the person that will someday at least try to save your life. I've seen what saving one life has coalesced to, what it is still blossoming into. And its eyeopening. I love that my life can save thousands just by shattering… even if it is one piece at a time. I only hope that a piece of me is climbing through these virtual pages. Learn from me, and pass it on. Maybe you too, can save a life.

Maybe emptiness doesn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe it's just a reminder. A slight pang that tells me that in some small, maybe even insignificant way, I'm changing the world. My pieces make other people feel whole, and my emptiness is a reminder of that. It is a small incentive to continue living the way that I do, to continue loving with no limits. I'm a bitch, but you love me, and your probably better for it too.

So in conclusion, if I were to define myself, I would have to say that I am a completer. I encounter people, I pick them up and dust them off and fill a tiny hole within them that allows them to continue on by themselves. I am not a creator, nor am I a developer, I am simply a builder. I am a helping hand. I reassemble what is out of whack. And I love doing it. I love finding something broken and bandaging it. Maybe someday I will encounter another person like myself and finally become my own finished product. I almost hope that doesn't happen though, who am I, if I am not who you need me to be?

 

This is either the caffeine or the sleep deprivation talking, but I mean every misspoken word of it.

XO

J-L