Headache.

Everything has been a headache lately.
I haven't gone a week without a night where my head throbbed.
This isn't poetry.
This is just teenage whining.
But I don't have the decision making capabilities right now
to stop myself from pressing that orange "publish post".

She began like a dance with a slow, uncertain entrance
but as her heart synced with the beat of the music, she fell into step with ease.
She had the eyes of a child with the heart of a woman.
Like a bird, she traveled with the seasons--
Falling into comfort for only small periods of time.
Those young eyes peered into every dark corner of the world
because that girl longed to experience every sight, sound, and silence that existed.
She wanted to know everything.
Her steps caused ripples like coins into fountains--they inspired even the most tired
to rise up and begin a change. Always a change for the better.
Apathy, complacency, and gravity were some things she desired to defy.
"No" was never the answer. And by that, I mean it was never the answer she gave.
In her mature juvenile mind, there was always a way to please everyone.
And so, she always did.
She was a dancer, dancing from place to place with a heartbeat rhythm.
And to her disbelief, an ensemble had formed behind her simply to hear and see
and to echo.

Empty

If there was a list, your name would be the only one occupying it.
"A list of those that you gave every single bit of your heart to."
And I found that the empty space you have left
has become a vacuum.
And it is sucking every emotion out of me.
Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.
But I had to, every other option was another hole.
Another valley.
Another grand canyon.

I wanted everything to work out.
But kisses don't heal anything.
Lips are only band-aids.
They cover up the true depths of the wounds we carve into one another.
And you've cut me to the bone.

And I can't will myself to give up on you.
Even football fields away from you
I would be screaming my unconditional love.
It doesn't matter how many times you send your self-defense
to take me down and out,
I will keep trying to get a touch down in the game that is
Hate vs. Love,
Broken vs. Whole,
Apathetic vs. Emotional,
You vs. Me.

When did it become a game of pain?
You saw my love by seeing how much I bled
when you took that love and injured it.
Too bad this process took everything that I had
and scattered the pieces across a field.

And now I'm left to run in circles putting myself back together.

Neither of us won.
And hurting you created a hurricane in me that is growing every day.
Its stirring my innermost emotional defenses
and slowing turning me to stone.

But in the eye of this stone storm is the love for you that I can't stop screaming.
Not for the life of me.

And the storm will not calm.
The screaming will not stop.
The love will not fade.

I feel like this game can't possibly be over.

Losing Control.

It's a blank page.
And as I look back, I remember speaking every word that coursed through my brain.
I remember filling that glass a little more every time.
I remember that Capri Sun never tasted so good.
I remember marking the fifth shot.
But I don't remember anything else after that.

Four glasses of $120 champagne and who-knows-how-many shots later,
You say I proceeded to expel the contents of my body all over you and my entire bathroom.
And I laid there for two hours in that agony.
And the best part? I don't remember that.
I only believe you because your drunken clean-up job didn't cover all of my mess.
And when I walked into that bathroom hungover, I was baffled by my projection range.
Seriously. I don't have any idea how I managed that.

And I don't regret it one bit.
Every single circumstance was in our favor and you babysat me.
I apparently became a toddler.
And I already thought I was immature.
Nobody knew, nobody cared, you stayed sober for the most part.
You held my hair back. You made me drink water.
You let me go as far as I wanted to go.
You let me figure out whether or not I had any control.

And I have no control.
What. So. Ever.

And if this had happened at a party
where nobody would carry me to the bed
or clean my face or tuck me in or even get me to the bathroom
I don't know exactly what would have happened.
But it would not have been good.
You sat there rubbing my back for two hours
telling me that I'd be okay.

And I'm okay.
Because you were with me.

Just today, one of my best friends came to me sobbing.
She had just found out she had lost her virginity to a guy.
Two months ago.
She was drunk, and she didn't remember.
And he had finally told one of his friends, who told her.

I can't explain to you how much it means to me that you were there
Picking up the pieces.
And you didn't even start to try to take advantage of my state.
I am so thankful that I have you.
And through everything we've been through, I can finally see
that you never really left me.
You were always there, and you always will be.