And in the end, it is only the things that make you feel alive that have the power to kill you.

LIKE THE SUN

My heart has a tendency to find one more reasons to give him another chance. All the red lights in front of me and i only see blue. I only see him. I am still feeling onto our memories. They warm me up from the outside and break me from the inside. The thing about hearts is that they break and they forgive. I still can’t give sense to it. The thing about the sun is that it still comes up even when it keeps leaving million of times. It reminds me of myself. I still come up at his sky. I still want him...

I don’t know. That’s all I can say. I don’t know if I love him, but I know I have strong feelings for him. I don’t know if I want him, but I know that I don’t want to lose him.

I don’t know if he’s right for me, but I know I want to give him a chance.

Everyone tells me that I will know when it feels right, that if I’m scared it means I’m not ready. But what can I do when I’m already in so deep that I can’t find my way back up? 

What happens if I actually want to give us a chance, even if I’m not even completely sure of my feelings.

Does that make me a bad person? 

Is it bad that I’m jumping into the unknown without knowing if I’m ready beforehand?

Everyone says that love is magical, that you won’t have a doubt in your mind and that when it’s right, you’ll know.
But I don’t know anything. I’m scared that I’m just going to end up hurting not only myself but him as well. I’m scared that I don’t fully know what I’m getting myself into. I’m just scared and I don’t know what to do anymore.

WEDNESDAY SHAMBLES

If I could, I would burn the threads of his past so they could no longer be a noose.

REMEMBER

I hope we lasted
I hope we did...
But this is how I want you to remember me:

I want you to remember me curled up,
listening to the sound of your heartbeat,
And tracing maps across your skin.
Remember me laughing at your jokes,
Even the stupid ones.
Remember me in hysterics,
For absolutely no reason,
And in tears because one time you made me so sad,
Neither of us thought I could recover.
Remember me brave,
That time you held my hand,
And I thought I was going to die.
Remember me scared,
And gentle,
And delicate,
And breakable.
Only for you though,
Only for you.

Remember me happy,
And all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention.
Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you,
And how insane it drove the both of us.
Remember all the firsts,
And how they were so delightful.
We went back for seconds,
And thirds,
And fourths.
Remember the songs you couldn’t stop listening to,
And the dreams you allowed yourself about the future.
If it’s any consolation,
I allowed myself to have them too.

If it comes to it,
I don’t want you to remember the ending.
Remember the beginning.
Remember the first time you knew.

WHAT-IFS, COULD-HAVES, WOULD-HAVES

You could plant some joy across my face, and some love in my heart. You could feel the scars underneath my skin with your lips, with your hands in my hair. You could slip your hands into mine and we could sway to the gentle wind of the night. We could carry an endless love together, but we would not. So here I am, in the middle of the night, swaying alone with a list of what-ifs, could-haves, and would-haves.

LOVE

How much we hurt is such a great indicator of how much we're capable of loving. And that is profound, because some people spend their whole lives never truly loving. So, instead of using heartbreak to close our hearts, let's see it as a testament of our strength, our power, our capacity to love. Let's use our emotions to propel us. To make us better. To change how we show up. To leave nothing unloved, including ourselves.

HOPE

I have a sickening tendency to hope. I will stand on one end of the bridge you're burning, fire hose ready, while you’re on the other end adding more gasoline. I will inhale the smoke and cough up your broken promises, trying to make you remember how we were before to no avail. And after running away, before my lungs aren’t the only thing burning, I will watch from a safe distance as you walk away in the wake of the flames. I won’t say a word as I douse them, but I will build a new bridge out of my memories, after putting out the remaining embers and wait to see if you ever cross it.

HANNA

Hello. My name is Hanna and I’m of a Spanish-Filipino descent. I have a rare disorder called, Selective Mutism. Google it. Not much people know about it. I am a shy person.I don’t know why I’m shy. I always tell myself to just get over it, but it’s something I will probably struggle with for the rest of my life. I’ve learned to accept this as part of my personality, but sometimes it just makes my life difficult. I have a naturally quiet voice, so when I do speak, people talk right over me. Sometimes it’s easier for me not to say anything at all.
I get all sweaty or shivery every time I have to speak in public. And I plan out what I'm going to say in every situation in order to force myself to talk,but I end up not saying anything or messing up what I planned to say.

ADVANTAGES

The way I’ve been talking about shyness, it seems like a disease, but there are plenty of advantages to being shy:
* I can come across as quiet and mysterious,which is sexy. Besides,guys don’t like girls who talk too much. It’s like Ursula sings in “The Little Mermaid,”
*Men don’t like a lot of blabber. They think a girl who gossips is a bore.”

MISCONCEPTIONS

Everybody makes judgments about me based on my shyness, and usually they are wrong. I can’t tell you how many times somebody has told me, ”You are so cool, but I used to think you were weird.”

Here are some common misconceptions that every shy girl knows are complete bogus:

* You’re quiet because you’re a snob or a bitch.
This is one of the most common misconceptions. It’s hard for extroverts to understand shyness. The loud girls would never understand that I didn’t talk because I was so shy, that sometimes it made me sick to my stomach to talk to others. They would assume that I didn’t talk because I thought I was too good for them.

* You don’t talk because you have nothing interesting to say.
I feel like there is so much in my brain I just want to say. Maybe one day, I’ll just explode and say everything I’m thinking. I can’t really explain it,but I feel like there is this physical barrier between my brain and my mouth. I am constantly in a battle with myself. By the time I win, the moment has passed and whatever I was going to say is no longer relevant.

* Shy girls aren’t funny.
People think I have no sense of humor. Because I’m so quiet, it’s hard for others to get a handle on my personality. If others would make a joke, they would make it clear to me that they were kidding, so I wouldn’t get offended, but they didn’t realize I never took offense. When I made sarcastic comments(which was often), nobody realized I was joking and they didn’t know how to react.

As the Beatles song goes,”It’s getting better all the time (it can’t get no worse).” Although I will never stop being shy, it’s becoming less of a problem…but it fluctuates. There are times when my shyness is especially bad. When I’m depressed I tend to retreat into my room and stop talking to people–that’s the ”It can’t get no worse part,” but for the most part, “It’s getting better all the time.”

I will never completely overcome my shyness and I’m OK with that.