Clandestiny

You were a dream. I know you were. You invaded my life for the past 3 years, poisoning my mind and controlling my thoughts. Then in an instant, you just vanished. The cloud of smog cleared up simply by me waving my arms and opening a window to let you get out. It’s funny how powerful you were. All you had to do was talk, but your words were powerful. More powerful than mine. Sometimes I’m terrified that you’ll come back, or maybe you’re still here, in my head. Your presense may be gone, but words can last a long time. And you were never really here, after all. Just a small voice in my ear that I would listen to every night after I picked up the phone. Like clockwork. We have spoken every night since approximately May 2008 until October 22, 2010.

That’s 905 days. Or 2 years, 5 months, and 22 days.

129 weeks.

21720 hours.

1,303,200 minutes.

78,192,000 seconds.

Wow. it may not seem like a long time, if you factor in that I should be alive for another 70 or 80 or so years. But still, there’s a sort of gravity to this moment of time in my life. I’m sure it won’t bother me as much in the future, but it’s almost like a black hole in my timeline. It ate up those 2 and a half years, and it’s slowly crawling back to me to the present, trying to reel my back in.

I remember your words. You don’t have to keep repeating them, imaginary-version-of-Chris. For some reason I imagine going back to find you, just to see if I’ll happen to run into you even thought I have no idea exactly which city you’re in. I’ll just wander around the dark alleys where you pissed your own words on the wall, and spray painted your shit for all the world to see. There I’ll find you, and I’ll enjoy every second of it. Maybe enjoy is the wrong word, as in “I will ‘enjoy’ wanting to stab you even though I’m fucking scared of you”. Why? Because you were real, and then you were also surreal. Sometimes I wondered if you actually existed or if my mind made you up to drive myself crazy. Let’s go with option #2, it would make things much simpler. Then that means that you aren’t still out there, running around and terrorizing people with your words. Your words. I swear to the devil I will erase them. I’m sick of them showing up in every thought, and how some of them seem to continually sneak into my writing in this post-you time. Soon you will be gone.

I remember that night, though I want to forget it. It was such a good memory. A happy memory, and it always will be.

I heard a knock on the door, softly. I crossed over, looked through the peephole, my heart racing.

It was him.

I opened the door, cautiously, because I’ve always been the cautious type, not sure what was about to happen. He didn’t say a word. He just came in, put his arms around me, and kissed me. I think it was the best, most anticipated kiss of my whole fucking life. I waited three years for that kiss. I don’t think I ever felt so much in every fiber of my being just from one little kiss.

He pulled away. “You are smiling so wide right now.”

I can’t remember if I replied to this, I probably just giggled as I leaned in for another one. Then at some point I asked him if he wanted to go to the bed. We did. And we just cuddled and kissed. It was nice, one of the best nights of my life without sex involved. I think the reason it was so great was because we didn’t ruin it with sex.

That was all exactly 11 months ago.

A year ago, 2 weeks from now, I dumped my controlling Shakespeare-wannabe long distance boyfriend.

5 months ago I got together with my current boyfriend. He is not the guy I described in this amazing memory of mine, but they know each other. They were friends.

I guess the part that doesn’t make sense to me is how I can’t be with someone who I have had such good memories with. Actually I do know the reason. He’s a great guy, but would rather sleep around with many girls than settle with me. And let me tell you, I would have done everything possible to be the best least annoying girlfriend in the world to him. But he will never know that. He will never read this. I have cut him off to avoid damage to my current relationship, and I feel horrible about it.

Last night, I was telling a good friend about my situation. She told me how she was always waiting for me and him to get together and was surprised when we didn’t.

That made me want him again all the more. It makes me think about this goddamn memory even more.

Over the last almost four years that I have known him, I can admit that I’ve fallen for him. But how do you fall out? How long does it take? Can someone please mathematically calculate this for me?

I guess this is why I want to remain anonymous, because I knew that I would eventually write something so real to me that I can’t possibly risk anyone I know reading it. I guess I didn’t realize it would happen days within creating this. But there’s a part of me that desperately needs to put to words out somewhere. Let’s let this be out secret memory, tumblr. Pinkie swear?

• Question: WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET? - tumblrbot
• Answer:

  This is obviously automated, but I’ll answer anyway!

  I want to go anywhere where I can see the stars and the milky way. A place where it’s warm at night. Not too hot, not too cold, just perfect. Maybe just a little tiny bit chilly sometimes so I can snuggle up to that someone special. Where you can go pick blueberries and eat them right away and not worry about having to rinse them off because of pesticides. Where you can just relax and not worry about the million things you have to do back home, but you can still feel like you’re at home. This place is somewhere in the state of Maine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go there in my head sometimes.

We are made of stardust. Most are unaware of it, but sometimes I can feel the distant planets tugging at me, because they are also made of the same material. Everything in the universe yearns to be closer together, because wouldn’t everything be so much simpler then? We could travel to Saturn, bask in its rings, take a ride through Jupiter’s storm. But everything is kept apart by dark matter, dark energy, dark-we-don’t-know-what-the-hell-this-stuff-is. Let’s just call it the darkness to avoid being scientific.

Sometimes I dream that there is no darkness. Everywhere is filled with light. But it’s so blinding, that everyone loses their vision. This is where dream turns to nightmare. Other times I just imagine, what if we were giants? We would tower above the cosmos like Gods.

After all, we are Gods, in a way, even if we are pretty tiny in the grand perspective. We are magicians, wizards, and sorcerers. We figured out all these things about the universe in the first place, because our brains are advanced enough to handle it. We created technology. How is this not magic to us? I think we are all amazing and incredible. Just because we haven’t figured out a way to live on the moon or go to Mars doesn’t mean we won’t figure it out. Even if we don’t, maybe we’re not meant to? Instead we will figure out how to live forever. And forever is enough time to do anything, I believe.

Many things have been created out of the stardust of many supernovae. Planets, suns, elements, and… us.

nowritersblockhere:

036.  In 55 Words…

fall in love

The moment I fell in love with you was seconds before you kissed me the first time. Your hair was much shaggier than it is now. On rainy days you looked just like a lost puppy in the rain. All I wanted to do was adopt you and give you all the love you needed.

This was a challenge, I originally wrote 100 words and had to cut so much, but I think I got most of my point across!

Writing is difficult. I’m just going to come out and say it because I can’t seem to get any other lines on the page. I have the desire, all the words floating above my head in the clouds, but something is missing. You can have all the drive and motivation in the world, but when it comes down to content, and how to string the right words together, it just really sucks. I’m not going to call it a writing block, it’s more like you’re in a car and have forgotten how to drive. I want to go somewhere, anywhere! It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m in motion.

I tried NaNoWriMo many times in the past. That’s just like when you’re in the car and you can’t take your foot off the pedal. No, I have to find the right balance of speeding, slowing down, stopping, turning, and beeping my horn. The creation of this tumblr is kind of my way of trying to remedy this situation. I used to call myself a writer all the time in my head. I imagined that I would become a famous authoress that people would look up to and would motivate other younger people to become just like me.

I put the blame on a horrible relationship I ended about a year ago, but it’s really hard to place the blame when he’s not even in my life anymore. He was a playwright who was so damn confident that he was going to be the next Shakespeare. He inflated himself up so much, and when he trashed my writing, saying how stupid it is, I felt like a popped balloon. Now I’m thinking, how could I let one person ruin a good thing for me? He was the only one who was negative about me as a writer and an artist, and as a human being. It’s time to stop blaming him. Time to start typing without looking back. Time to finally pull out of the driveway.

I’m not expecting many people to read anything I write on here. Some days it might be just my horrible rants about stuff that’s bothering me. Other days, something beautiful might spawn out of this huge head of mine. I don’t know, I have no expectations other that to get started. If people actually read this, it would be nice to know what you think. Constructive criticism is good. I’ll tell you what I don’t want though. I don’t want to write for anyone else. It sounds selfish, but how can I be pure and true to myself if I care so much about what other people think or want and expect of me? So even though I’m not setting many rules for myself in terms of content, I still need my boundaries. Also, I think I should mention that Kylee is not my real name. It’s a pen name I’ve used for as long as I can remember. I want to be anonymous for now. You won’t find out who I really am, it’s better this way. I’m beginning a new relationship here, one with my imagination.

I need to spend more time with my head in the clouds.

With much love,
Kylee