Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Be still, my beating heart.

Be still, my beating heart.
I know he draws near.
I know you long for things that cannot be.
Don't give yourself away.

Be still, my beating heart.
I know his eyes are warm.
I know you long for them to see you.
Don't give yourself away.

I know his lips look soft.
I know his smile's inviting.
I know you long to feel his lips.
To feel them pressed upon your own.
Don't give yourself away.

Be still, my beating heart.
I know you feel his beating, too.
I know you long it beats for you.
Don't give yourself away.

Be still, my beating heart.
For this will never be.
He loves another, just let him go.
Don't give yourself away.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Love.

Love.
Funny word, love.
So small, and yet it can mean so much.
Or so little.
It's an overused word that, in the end, never seems to lose it's meaning.
A word that, when said by the right person at the right time, can change everything.

Love.
I wish I knew love.
The way the stories tell and the songs sing.
And the poems rhyme.
A love that can't even be measured in words and, in the end, never loses it's meaning.
A love that, when from the right person, can change everything.

Love.
I want that.
But will it ever want me?

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Head vs. Heart

I sit here in a failed attempt to get work done, instead, drowning in whirlwind of thoughts flying through my head. I can't get them out of my head. I can't get him out of my head. I told myself time and time again that I was being stupid and I would only end up hurting myself, but my heart didn't listen. It refused to listen, thinking it would never amount to much. It was harmless, liking him. I didn't like him that much. But, somehow, without noticing, it became to much, and my foolish, foolish heart is hurt again, through no fault but it's own. I knew it would happen, but I couldn't help myself. And now I sit here trying not to let it get to me. Trying to focus on something else that needs to get done, but I can't. And I don't know how to let it go. I don't know how to get over it. I need to move on, but I don't know where to move to.

Is it time for break, yet?

Monday, February 20, 2012

It's That Time of the Month...

The painters are in. On the rag. A visit from Aunt Flo. Period.

Yup. That is, in fact, what I'm talking about. Now that I've laid it all out there and scared away any guy who gets squeamish at the thought of the word, let me tell you why I'm talking about this.

Periods suck. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar. Some suck less than others, but there is nothing fun about bleeding out of your vagina once a month. Not only that, but factor in the cramps, bloat, body aches, the varying levels of hormonal fluctuation, and, in my case, the effect it has on my bowels, and it's easy to see why no body likes them.

This time around, though, has been a rollercoaster of emotional hell I never knew existed. It wasn't until this evening that I understood exactly what was going on. I chalked it up to stress and too much school work. It wasn't until my friend, Alyssa, pointed out how crazed I was when I snapped at her earlier that it all made sense. Now, I am no stranger to this time of the month. After 10 years of it, you understand it well enough. This time, however, was different.

After the vomit-inducing pain fiasco that was the discovery of my ovarian cysts, a trip to the lady doctor had me put on birth control in order to reduce their size and stop the bi-monthly, post-period writhing and suffering. Let me tell you, birth control is fucking magical. Not only did it shrink those mother fuckers, but it also made my period almost bearable. (My periods had never been too bad in the first place, but, on the pill, there was barely any hint of cramps, my period was so light, only lasted a few days, and I always knew when it was going to start. So fuck those mother fuckers trying to make it difficult to get birth control. Let them have a period every month and then we'll see what they have to say.)

Recently, though, due to timing and refill confusion, I stopped taking it for about two months. Once I finally got everything straightened out, I started taking it again. However, against my better judgement, I didn't feel like waiting until after I had my next period. Bad life decision there. When everything is on track, birth control works like this: Three weeks of hormone pills followed by a week of placebo iron pills, which is when your period is supposed to happen. That is not what is going on right now. Instead, my period is happening right smack dab in the middle of my hormone pills. Now my hormones are all out of whack and I'm acting like Crazypants McBitchface, freaking out over every little thing and snapping at people without even realizing it, something that normally doesn't happen for me. I might be a titch more irritable normally, but nothing like this. Even now, while sitting here, I can just feel how weird my body feels. It's not normal at all.

So, if you run into me in the next couple of days, I'm so sorry for what emotional hot mess comes out of my mouth. I'm not usually like this. Hopefully, my body will straighten itself out next month and everything will be back to normal.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Lost, Not Found

What do you do when everything you know changes without any clue as to when or why? I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me and I don't know which way is up. Friends I once thought I knew have become hard to recognize, and I don't even think I know who I am anymore. Things that I was sure of have now become unstable and I don't have much else to cling onto. I don't have an anchor, and I fear I will soon be swallowed up without anyone noticing.

I'm Danielle, the girl who forgot how to trust. Danielle, the girl who forgot how to love.

I'm lost, but I don't remember how to be found.