Empty Apologies


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You ask me what is wrong and I always give some excuse so that I can get out. I dodge your worried glances and avoid eye contact as much as possible. I don’t want to open up because I don’t want to get hurt. I know we used to be as close as friends can get, but that’s not us anymore. I’m sure you know that just as well as I do.

We’ve been drifting apart for months now. I’ve tried to breach the gap but nothing is working. Maybe I’m not pushing hard enough, but I’m tired of getting nowhere and I’m ready to give up. I’ve been stuck between caring too much and not caring at all for too long. I’m not strong enough to keep going like this.

I apologize for how weak I am, but I’m done. I apologize for my selfishness and making this all about me. Then again I’m not seeing any effort on your side so maybe this is for the best. I apologize for not being like them because they are who you want to be around. I apologize for going to church and actually wanting to be there. I apologize for being unwilling to come up and talk to you like nothing has changed. I apologize for pulling away when you finally decided to give a crap. I apologize for all of the times I inconvenienced you because it obviously wasn’t worth it. I apologize for anything I did to change you from who you used to be into who you are now.

I didn’t know what I was getting into when I let my guard down on that bus ride so many months ago. I’m sorry I showed you who I was under under all my masks because allowing you to see my lowest point, with tear streaked cheeks and a shaking voice, was so stupid. Most of all I sincerely apologize for all the time you spent trying to be my friend.

If I could change it all now I would, but at this point I’m sick of apologizing when it falls on deaf ears. My last apology is not to you but to myself. I’m sorry I told myself this was all my fault, that I’ve kept myself up every night thinking about what I could have done differently to save our friendship. All this time I thought I deserved to feel this way, but now I’m realizing that shouldn’t have ever been the case. I’ve made mistakes, but this one, this one is not on me.

A Sinner Searching


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Version 2

I’m a sinner searching for redemption. My guilt has been tearing me apart from the inside out. I shut off my feelings. Emotions made me weak. I was conscious but my conscious was behind bars of my own design. I thought time would hide the wounds, but it has only made them larger. Peace has alluded me at every turn. The devil on my shoulder tells me I’m too far gone to go back now. I wrestle with my doubts and run from who I once was.

For months I have been to proud to get down on my knees, but when I fall to them you are there. You listen to my trivial annoyances and desires as if I am recounting the most engaging story you have heard. I do not deserve another chance, yet you refuse to let me go. I didn’t give you the time of day, yet you gave your life for me. I have never felt anything like your love.

What is it about you that has me captivated? You’ve provided me with everything I could ever ask for, but I was too distracted to thank you for a single thing. I feel I am worth less than the dust under their feet, but you treat me like royalty. I’ve been blind to your hand in my life and still you reach for me. When tears stain my pillow you comfort me. How have you brought about this change in me?

When You Say You Love Me


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A feeling that is a mixture of fear and peace envelope me. I never guessed I’d hear those three words escape your lips, at least not while you were talking to me. It’s amazing how that one little phrase can change the feeling in a room. Most people would be so happy to hear someone say,”I love you,” but for me everything just becomes more clouded over.
When you say you love me what do you mean? Do you mean exactly that, that you love me, or do you know how I’m feeling? Are you just trying to comfort me? To tell you the truth all you’ve done is make the confused state I’m living in more difficult to understand.

I realize you are waiting for an answer, but what do I say? Why would you even put me in this dreaded position? If I don’t answer you might get agitated. If I answer incorrectly you could get even more upset. If I lie and say I love you I personally have to deal with the pain of you expecting more from me.

I know exactly what you want to hear, but if I say that I would be deceiving you. I have no response and therefore give none. I don’t know how to react and simply sit there, too stunned to move. I look down at my feet. The silence seems endless. My head is telling me to run, but my heart is telling me to stay, here, in your arms.

You shift uncomfortably like you can sense what is coming. I silently wish that what we have will never go away. I turn to face you and I know this time I wont be able to hold it all in. Your features are pained, your smile forced. You state the obvious, that something is wrong. I begin to explain why the situation confuses me. While talking the bottle that has held my hidden thoughts for so long shatters and they spill out uncontrollably. My emotions escape along with everything else and soon tears are streaming down my face. I know that I’ve failed, I’ve failed you.

By the time I’m done I feel completely drained and I’m leaning on you for support. You turn towards me and your eyes show pure determination. There is one thing I know for sure, no matter how strange I act you always take the time to try and understand me. I should have known you’d never give up. That’s when you lean down and kiss me.

When You Look At Me


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Why must every time I see your face new feelings get aroused and my true thoughts try to escape? Instead I bite my tongue and hold it all in. When you look at me I feel uneasy. I try to ignore my feelings, but I can’t. Rather than tell you my feelings I choose to hide them and bury them deep inside myself. Why can’t life be full of yesterdays? Days brimming with laughter and delight. Days when we were just friends. We were both hiding feelings but we didn’t mind. Now everything is different and everything is worse.

As a couple we are expected to say and do certain things. I miss when could do whatever we wanted to. I miss when we didn’t have to worry about our actions being analyzed by the people around us. Now everything is about the relationship, the couple, the action. What happened to unplanned adventures? What happened to what we wanted? What happened to the individual person? What happened to the old days? I miss when I never had to guess what you were thinking, I just knew.

My feelings toward you are jumbled and constantly worry me. What if I wake up tomorrow and want nothing to do with you? What then? I always tell people to take chances and listen to what their heart tells them to do. In this case my heart has been split apart and I don’t know how I’m supposed to act. Every time we talk you want more and more from me and naturally I want less and less to do with you. If I loved you I never would have started to slip away, but if I didn’t have feelings for you I wouldn’t have tried so hard to get your attention.

This all goes through my head when you look at me. I glance in your direction as you begin to get up. You walk toward me and all I want is your arms around me, but when it happens somewhere inside I feel uncertain. The joy and happiness in your eyes reminds me of what I must do. I have to hide all the pain, sorrow, and doubt I feel because I don’t want to hurt you. I close my eyes and struggle to do just that as you lean down and whisper in my ear, “I love you.”

What I’m Striving For


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I can’t just give you a few words to describe who I’m striving to be, I want to be so much more than one sentence. I want to be the girl who dances in the rain and doesn’t care if anyone is watching. I want to be the girl who captures the simple moments from behind the camera lens. I want to be like the boy who pumps his fist in the air after scoring the winning point of the game. I want to be like the kid with the sketchbook who sits apart from the crowd and recreates the beauty around him with every line he draws. I want to be the kid who let’s every emotion bleed out through the ink of a pen scrawling across the paper. I want to be one of the kids who sit on their roof and stare at the stars.

I want to be like the boy who jams out because the music is where he can be himself. I want to be like the class crown who has everyone laughing even if it means making fun of myself. I want to be the girl who no longer has to turn away when she looks in the mirror because the scars are fading and she loves who she is now. I want to be like the boy who who stands up for the weaker person in a fight, even if his friends are the abusers. I want to be like the girl who poured the bottle down the drain because she is stronger than the addiction. I want to be the teenager that tamed their demons, conquered their fears, and learned to let the armor down and the masks fall off.

I want to be like the man who comes home from work and takes the next hour to wrestle around with his children. I want to be like the woman who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.I want to be like the woman who spends time on her knees each morning and evening. Like the man who makes opening his scriptures every day a priority. I want to be the friend who is there even when it feels like no one else is. I want to be like the grandparents who share their wisdom and life experience with those who are willing to listen. The confidante you would feel comfortable telling anything to. I want to be someone that other people can depend on.

I want to be a lifeguard constantly watching for people who are struggling. The delinquent who had to learn from past mistakes. To be like the runner who goes on for miles because she knows how to carry on through the pain. I want to be like an entrepreneur who is spending eight hours a day doing what he loves. I want to be like the cancer patient who appreciates every minute they have and every breathe they take. I want to be like a first-grader who is excited about learning and is friends with everyone they meet. To be like the teacher who works to inspire their students and teach them new perspectives. The coach who reminds their players what it means to be a good person. I want to be like those who serve selflessly.

Most of all I want to be one of the people who made it. One of the people who became everything they wanted to be. In the end, I want to be me, and I want all of these things to be a part of who I am.

What She Does To Me


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Anger, annoyance, frustration. I struggle to keep my emotions in check as I’m told another way that I’ve come up short. I clamp my mouth shut and there is a small movement where my muscle tightens and bulges slightly along my jaw. There is no pleasing this woman I am forced to deal with. I’ll never live up to her unreachable expectations.
I let the shouting voice inside my head say the words I long to scream. I try to stay above it all and I tell myself I won’t go under, but her impossibly high standards and consistently pessimistic attitude drags my sinking spirit further into the depths. She is always complaining about how I never work or listen. I pretend it doesn’t hurt every time she throws an insult my way.
I stand there silent as I’m ordered around and she lists what I’ve done wrong. Never allowing her to see my emotions because then she will have won. She has the whip, she’s in control, and at times like this she shows no mercy. The injustice of a parent never satisfied… I’ve dealt with it countless times before. The silence that stretches on because she refuses to acknowledge my protests, it feels like it will last forever every time it comes to that. Never feeling appreciated or accomplished, I’m used to it.
I resist the urge to smash something against the wall. I can’t possibly be right, because in her eyes I’m always wrong. Why I stay, I’m not really sure. I dream of freedom and the chance to get away from here. This place where I live, eat, and sleep is simply a house, it is not my home. With each new comment a spark of resistance comes alive. I refuse to be beaten down into submission. The flame of rebellion dances within my eyes. I wait patiently and bide my time, for it seems the only choice left is to run.

I Can’t Help It


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I can’t help it. This is who I am. This is how I feel. I’m never going to be who they want me to be. I know I’m depressed, but no one else is allowed to see it. I don’t want their pity. I don’t want their looks. They have all gotten past it and moved on. They don’t have time for me. I couldn’t keep up. I didn’t recover.

This isn’t something I can just give up and get rid of. This is a part of me now. I’ve gotten so good at hiding it from everyone else that I can almost trick myself into thinking that I’m ok. Then, I crash. I’m not sure what causes the initial drop, but once it happens it can take days or even weeks to get everything sorted out. Then I go back to pretending. I build up my walls and dawn my masks.

It’s almost like I can’t let myself be happy. If things have been going well for a while then I have to invent something to trip myself up to remind me of who I really am. This addiction I have with being upset or numb is all consuming. I enjoy being numb because it’s easy. It’s far simpler than feeling raw emotions. I don’t think anyone can relate to me because my logic makes absolutely no sense to the common person.

This shouldn’t be what I want, yet for some unexplainable reason, it is. It’s a vicious cycle that I choose not to leave. I’ll get gradually better until reality wakes me up from my worthless dreams. No one could ever love the messed up person I am. I push them all away when they get close enough to catch a glimpse of my vulnerabilities.

I feel like I never fit in. Maybe it’s because I isolate myself, but my past has taught me not to trust or get too close to anyone. I’ve been betrayed before and history tends to repeat itself. I want so many different things I’m bound to be disappointed. I need someone to tell me that living this way is worth it in the end, because I don’t want to keep going on like this.

The Unseen Storm


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Self confidence has never been one of my strengths. For me it’s a nonstop battle; one that I fear I am constantly loosing. It’s a struggle that most people can’t even tell I’m dealing with. They just expect me to fine. To have it together all the time. It’s unrealistic. That’s not how it works, for me, or for anyone else.

I see them watching as I walk; dissecting me, categorizing me, judging me. The disapproving shakes of their heads and snickers behind my back. That’s when it all starts… the unseen storm within me begins.

I stand on a small hill of self respect and personal accomplishment. It’s taken months for me to get up this far. I look down at the stream flowing at the base of the hill where I started. The water carrying away the filth people have tried to stick to me.

I have withstood it for months, but all too soon the dark clouds come rushing in as my perspective becomes dark, dismal, dreary. Their words are lightning striking with extreme force, incredible precision, and impeccable timing. Their laughter, like thunder, soon follows rolling across the valley. My head starts spinning and soon the rain arrives. Every drop a small doubt forming in my mind; wearing down the ground around me. Each new fork of lightening and roar of thunder threatening to throw my world off balance.

The rain starts pouring down in sheets and I find myself slipping and sliding down the hill I worked so hard to climb. The once insignificant stream has rapidly grown into a fearsome river. I stumble into it and the swift current pulls me toward rock bottom. I fight to stay afloat but already I am beginning to sink.

The pebbles of past mistakes I have refused to let go of and still carry in my pockets add to my weight, forcing me down faster. I see the bottom approaching and stop fighting to get back to the surface. I’m a lost cause. As my last breath runs out I imagine embracing one of the few things that could help me. It’s too late. Everything goes black and my silent struggle is over. Depression is all consuming.

Between Us


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Is it always going to be this way between us? It’s like the second we see each other there is a chill in the room. We smile and make a simple remark or two, but it’s all wrong. Your eyes don’t light up the way they used to. Your laugh doesn’t sound the same anymore. When we talk it’s as if a fifty pound weight was dropped on my chest and I can’t seem to push it of.

Silence is a lot more uncomfortable than it should be. It’s during this cease in the exchanging of words that I find myself questioning everything I do. I don’t understand why I feel so small and unsure of myself whenever you are around. I crave our old friendship. There is not even a trace of it here anymore. What I hate most is that you don’t even see me unless I have made a mistake or I am in pain. The rest of the time I’m invisible. Someone else is always more important.

I used to like it when you would scratch my back or play with my hair. Now I tense up at the slightest touch. I’m scared of letting you back in because I know this could happen all over again. I can no longer tell if you stand by out of genuine concern or some messed up sense of duty. If you don want to be here is rather you just go.

I know my personal feelings of inadequacy and betrayal might be playing into this, but I think it’s more than that. This empty space between us is a wall neither one of us is willing to scale. We’ve put back on the masks we worked so hard to chip away. The trust that once bonded us together so tightly is gone. There isn’t anything left worth holding onto, yet I refuse to let go completely.



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I’m struggling to survive in a world bent on dragging me down. I can barely keep it together. I’m drowning. I’m slipping and loosing sight of all the things I wanted. I just don’t care anymore. I don’t care about what other people think. My grades, my relationships, and my faith are no longer important.
I don’t even necessarily care about how badly I’m falling. I’ve lost sight of who I am. I know I am supposed to be worried about all those things, but they aren’t worth it to me anymore. It’s not worth the stress. They aren’t worth the pain, or effort, or time.
I just want to leave this place. I was wrong to think that things were getting better. One day I’ll learn that I never seem to end up on top. It’s almost better that I stay here sitting on the floor. No use getting up when I just find myself here again anyway.
If I left I might have a chance. I could run and leave it all behind. No, I wouldn’t have a normal lifestyle, but I would be able to be free. I could live the way I wanted. There would be no more caging it all in. It would be hard, but nothing could be as hard as living like this is.
I want to tell someone about my thoughts and feelings but I can’t. I need to walk away, get out of here, be alone, go somewhere so I can think. I don’t have anywhere to go though. There is no escape from here. There’s no running from who I am. I can’t go anywhere and get away from me.