What you can't have...

You always want what you can't have...

It's not having what you want... it's wanting what you've got...

not wanting what you don't have.

So, can you make this go away? This constant need for things you can't have.

The mysterious unattainable.

Wanting what you can't have: Happiness.'


But instead, you sit alone, singing your song... hoping that someone listens. Or better yet, that someone wants to sing along.

Winter Winds

Sometimes, a song hits you with words that describe exactly how you're feeling... and that, my friends, is why music is one of the world's most wonderful accomplishments.

"Winter Winds"

As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts
Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms
Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?
For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt

And my head told my heart"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head"This time no, This time no"

We'll be washed and buried one day my girl
And the time we were given will be left for the world
The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague
So let the memories be good for those who stay

And my head told my heart"Let love grow"But my heart told my head"This time no"Yes, my heart told my head"This time no, This time no"

Oh the shame that sent me off from the God that I once loved
Was the same that sent me into your arms
Oh and pestilence is won when you are lost and I am gone
And no hope, no hope will overcome
And if your strife strikes at your sleep
Remember spring swaps snow for leaves
You'll be happy and wholesome again
When the city clears and sun ascends

And my head told my heart"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head"This time no"
And my head told my heart"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head"This time no, This time no"

... man.

Footprints

So, I've heard it said that people come into your life... and some of them stay forever... but most of them leave "footprints". Meaning, they effect you, and then they move on, you lose touch, something along those lines. And that's great and everything...

But what if you're the sand that can't let the footprints go. What if you stay behind just staring at them, while they (the footprint leavers) move past you? What then?

I guess, what I'm saying is, how do you go unscathed? How can you keep that footprint from continually hurting you/affecting you? How do you become the "footprint leaver" and not the one that gets walked on?

meh.

Anxiety

Sometimes, it gets the best of me. My stomach goes crazy... my heart beats faster than it should... My insides feel like they're doing cartwheels. I start eating Tums like they'll save my life.

"Did I say the wrong thing?" "Did I say too much?" .. "No, you just think too much"

Then I get queasy. I can't sleep. I'm tossing. I'm turning.

"What if I lose control?"..."Maybe you already have"

Then I get queasy. I can't concentrate. I can't think straight.

"What if I push them away?"... "You have a huge mouth. You talk to much. You've already pushed them away."

Then I vomit.

The end.

Sometimes I feel like my heart is going to fall out of my butt.

Sometimes things happen...

So, that's probably the stupidest thing someone could ever say...

"sometimes things happen..."

No shit, Paige. Things happen a lot... good things, bad things, some things, no things... Things happen.

But sometimes, things happen that change you dramatically. Sometimes your heart gets broken into so many pieces that you don't know how it will ever be a heart again. Sometimes, you are betrayed in ways you didn't think were imaginable, and you somehow find a way to get past it, to move on, and continue as if it never happened. But it did. And somewhere in your mind, in your soul, it has changed you.

It's been six months... and I'm still broken. Completely broken. And I feel like a freak. There were three months of my life that we basically a tornado. I was in love, or so I thought. He wasn't, he lied and said he was. He did mass quantities of cocaine and lied and said he wasn't. He probably slept with multiple girls while he was with me. And lied and said he didn't. And when it ended, he said that he thought that I was the answer to his problems, that I could fix him. No dear, you can't fix that, but you broke me. Thanks for that. .... Then, less than two weeks later, I almost died, and I think that half of me did. Literally. And then, someone that I have loved since I was 17 actually did die, unexpectedly.

So, as I sit here on a Friday night, after being at a good friend's birthday party; after being hit on by multiple men, none of whom I would have wanted to be near, mostly just because they're men; after being told that I'm beautiful; and I wonder, why, if I'm so beautiful, am I always so broken? Why is it that every man that has ever been a part of my life, every man that was supposed to be there for me... was supposed to protect me... take care of me... and just LOVE me... have fed me to the wolves. "here baby, take this... I'm gonna go do some drugs" "Hey, I love you *snort*" "Hey, I want the best for you"... well, the best for me is not what any of you have done, ever. So, you could say that, tonight, I'm a man hater. Go ahead, say it.

But it's more than that... I hate people who can't stick to what they say. If you say you love someone, then love them. Don't leave them. Don't push them aside. Don't choose a high over them. Don't hurt them, repeatedly. That is not love. That is selfishness, manipulative selfishness. And, ladies and gentlemen, it sucks.

That was a tangent I had no intention of going on, but ya know what... that's how I feel. I can't trust or love anymore, and it's because people that were supposed to teach me to trust and love, people that I was supposed to be ABLE to trust and love, have done nothing but toss me aside. So, here goes. I'm broken. And I am healing everyday. But I promise that no one will ever break me the way that the people in the past have. Ever. And with that promise comes the basic inability to love or trust anyone.

Thank you for that.

Oh How The Years Go By...

"How old are you?" ... "26"...
"How old are you?" ... "57"...
"How old are you?"... "18"...

As we grow older, we may have up to 105 different answers to the same question... "how old are you?" It's funny, because I don't think this question ever really hit me the way it has in the past 2 months. I know, I'm only 26, it's silly that I'm thinking that this question "hit me" a certain way, but it has begun to hit me. Maybe it's the recent realization of my mortality, or the ticking of my stupid biological clock, or the fact that 75% of my friends are married/engaged/have children/are pregnant, maybe it's because I have a billion things to accomplish and haven't accomplished them... I can't tell you why exactly, but somewhere along the way, I've started to take offense to the question. Yes it sounds silly, but it's the truth, so bear with me.



Thursday night I was in a bar in State College, PA with a dear friend and was surrounded by 21 and 22 year olds, and I felt old. They were all there in their overwhelming colognes, perfumes, tight shirts and push-up bras, polo shirts and ripped jeans, painted on make-up and bleached hair, hair gel and loan money... drinking shots of grape vodka and bud light... and I was there in a flannel and a santa hat drinking a jack and coke out of a mason jar.


This is not to say that at 21 I wouldn't have been wearing or drinking the exact same things... because I likely would have. Nor is it to say that I would've been any less overwhelmed by the primal mating rituals going on in that bar... and every bar for that matter, but this was different. This was a feeling of loss and inadequacy paired with a deep sense of loneliness and emptiness. I do not want to be 21 again. Not even a little bit. I do not want to be the person that I was at 21, because she was a selfish, needy (albeit, still fun) royal pain in the ass. But for some reason, that girl didn't understand that time was passing, and she didn't hold onto, or value things the way she should have... and for that, I would like to (even if just for a moment) go back in time and beat the living hell out of her. Not that a beating would change anything (violence is not the answer), but just sometimes I want to turn back time long enough to tell people that I love them; to take hateful words back; to not take that drink;to not kiss that boy (or to kiss that boy); to not act that way; to hold back tears (or to let them out); to say what I mean and mean what I say... and I'm sure that somewhere in the back of our minds, all of us do. The sad part is just that the years are passing and passing and passing and I can't hold onto them, I can't make them slow down, and I'm just running along side them hoping they don't beat me to the finish. But they will... eventually.

Oh how the years go by,
Oh how the love brings tears to my eyes,
All through the changes the soul never dies,
we fight... we laugh... we cry...

Basically, all I'm trying to say is "wow... time flies" "seize the day", and about 10 million other cliches, and am doing a rather poor job of saying it. Anyway, I just hope that when the years do beat me to the finish, that I've taken the time to say "Hey, I love you" to those that I do, to kiss that boy (or not kiss that boy), to laugh at that joke, to laugh at that mistake, and to be able to say... "wow... that was awesome."