Tag Archives: Writing

I Would Really Like To Know

Look, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I’ve been popping around even though it’s not even once a year. I come because I need things, not because I have to see you.

I never dated in high school because I was always afraid that whoever I did date would stalk me, or just never let this idea of being with me go. I know that sounds silly, but these are serious fears I had. Or should I say have.

The truth of the matter is that you were the only guy that ever really made me feel safe. You were the only one who made me laugh, the only one who made me smile, the only one who gave me this warm fuzzy feeling inside when I fell so unbelievably low as the leaves fell with me.

At 16, everything was still new to me, as it is for every 16 year old. But there’s something I always knew, that I may never find the feeling I felt when I was with you.

I’m not coming around to spark something that could’ve happened years ago.

No, I literally just need to buy things.

I am sat here overthinking because today I was faced with the feeling of being unsafe.

I thought I saw someone I used to know at my bus stop.

I told myself it wasn’t who I thought, that it wasn’t what I thought…

And then I saw him again later on in the night.

He was alone, still wearing the same clothes, the same sweater I had seen at the bus stop earlier in the day, the same sweater I had my face buried in over a year ago as he hugged me and dammit the tears forming in my eyes can’t put into words how it feels to feel unsafe.

And then I saw you last weekend.

You told me to come back and see you, you looked down with a flushed face as I tried to read the signs on if you really did want me to see you again or if it was pure sarcasm.

I thought that if you really wanted to see me, then you would. If you really wanted to speak to me, then you would. If you really wanted me to be yours, I would have been already.

I got the feeling in the pit of my stomach, the warm and fuzzy feeling I haven’t truly felt since I met your eyes across a room as 16 years old-you told your jokes-and I laughed at everything… even the really bad ones.

But tonight I’m sat feeling sort of lonely, yes. But, I’m also scared. I don’t want any ghosts from my past, I’ve NEVER been one to revisit those unless on my own.

I’m thinking about you now because you always made me feel safe.

It’s all very stupid I know, and you may think I’m crazy, I know, and hell you even said “come back and see me” but is that out of love or is that out of pity.

I would really like to know.

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Conquering Chloe: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Why- what…” this boy just…he just walked out and–

“Chloe?” asked an older voice a flight above me.

All I could do was stand with a confused look on my face, with my back turned towards them wondering whether or not I should ask t-shirt guy what his deal was, but I stayed.

“Chloe, you know class is starting in,” she glanced at her watch as if she didn’t already know, “about ten seconds.”

“I’m sorry miss Martin I was just…”

“No need to explain just get on up there” she said with a wink and definitely not a space for me to say anything more.

I ran practically, to room 207 where I saw Kels for the first time since we spoke over the phone as she struggled to keep her eyes open until she saw me frantically sit in my chair—past the bell.

Immediately I felt a light smack in my back from a crumpled up paper that I knew belonged to the sleep deprived wild child.

“Chloe, you’re never late what happened?” it read

“I don’t want to talk about it” I whispered loudly throwing it back to her.

“We don’t have to talk, we can write” she begged.

Nothing but silence from me until I caved and wrote back “I’m not taking any chances, plus writing notes is a decade old” I inked in, tossing it carelessly and realizing it didn’t get to the right hands until I got it back from none other than the boy who’s locker might’ve dented my forehead.

“I wouldn’t talk about it either, the mark on your forehead says it all” I read in messy handwriting I could recognize in a heartbeat.

Immediately I felt I was drowning in my own humiliation.

I glanced at Kels who had her mouth wide open and eyebrows furrowed.

“WHAT does it say” she mouthed with wide eyes.

I gave her the coldest stare, first she takes off in algebra, then lunch the other day, now she’s caused my insides to feel like they were melting because of her damn need to know about another embarrassing thing.

*****

“—Then he just rips open the note like its meant for him, as if everything I do is meant for him to catch…”

“What does that mean” questioned Kelsey.

“Nothing, just a figure of speech…” I trailed off focusing on picking up speed to get to my bus home. So pathetic, a senior who still takes the bus.

With a few seconds to spare I realized in the midst of replaying last classes nightmare, I thought of the boy in the white t-shirt.

He seemed unfamiliar at first, but maybe I did know him.

Kelsey could see my mind was elsewhere but didn’t pry too much, instead opting for “is there anything else on your mind.” Pretty much the most basic friendship question.

“No, not really.”

She didn’t believe me, I could see it in her mirrored expression of a fake grin as we both knew I had to go.

I sat closest to the window and stuck my head out calling to Kels to text me later.

As I turned back around I picked up my purple headphones and began listening to music, trying frantically to find something to relate to my mood, so I wouldn’t feel too alone at this moment.

*****

Stepping off the bus I started the 15 minute walk home, and as I turned the corner a shine caught my eye.

It was the keys of some guy, maybe a couple of years older hopping out of his car getting home from work—when I then realized another on the passenger side opening his door and climbing out.

Wow he has pretty hair from behind… and cool shoes… and… oh my god he’s turning around.

I look away as quickly as I can hoping with every fiber of my being he doesn’t recognize me, or at the very least think I was checking him out.

I walked as fast I could, as normally as I could past his house, trying my best to hide my annoyance. How had I not realized he lived in my neighborhood?

He didn’t have to catch me, he could’ve let me fall, it would’ve made sense too considering I had just banged my head against a locker about a minute before.

“Do you normally take the bus” I turn around to find Mr. curls checking the mail.

I stood in silence.

“Do you normally not speak?”

Once again, silence.

He shuts the mailbox with one hand while still looking at me.

“Look, I—“

“You just left, why did you just catch me and leave” I demanded to know, unsure of where that came from.

He stood shocked and began to open his mouth but I had a little more to say.

“I don’t know you, and I don’t plan on knowing you, but I what I do want to know is why didn’t you just let me fall?”

“Why would I do that? Because it’s a human reaction I guess, and I don’t want to just let my neighbor fall on her face.”

“We live a whole street away from each other.”

“Eh, that’s not so far.”

“Yeah, you’re right it’s not far enough” I said hostile.

“I think what you’re trying to say is thank you” he said back.

“What I’m trying to say is that I can handle myself thank you very much.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. But don’t forget you did walk into a locker before that—“

“So, you saw that too?” I questioned.

“I did—but it wasn’t bad, and it didn’t cause a lot of attention or looks.”

“Do looks matter to you?”

“No, not unless it’s you looking” he said as I felt my cheeks get warm remembering a minute ago..

“I wasn’t looking at you—it was your driver’s keychain that made me look.”

“Whatever works” he said with a slight smile.

I turned around and got about five feet away before I heard him say “I’m Hayden by the way.”

I kept walking, determined to get home and away from whatever was happening here; but his blue eyes stayed in my mind.

Dear October: Good Paths That Never Stop

I wish there was some kind of book or guide on being 21… but there isn’t.

That’s a GOOD thing.

Living up to normal standards all the time is exactly how new ones are never made.

Why should you do what everyone else is doing and not what you want to do?

Why should you worry your life away about not having money when there are a million ways to live happily without it?

I’m not going to say the regular, “compare your life to someone beneath you and you’ll find they are much happier” thing or the “rich people may seem like they have everything, but they don’t really because where’s the real love” that has probably been said 50 times.

But, what I will say is that there is NO rule book to being 21. There is NO rule book on LIFE, for that matter.

Everyone makes decisions which lead them on and on and on into the future…. there are people before you, and people after you.

The world doesn’t stop.

It never stops.

It turns, and turns, and turns, creating the happiest and most devastating moments in every single persons every day lives.

As dreadful of a day you’re having, it could be someones best.

As amazing as the day is, there will be some point where it will take a tubmle…

But does that mean you should dread the happiness you’re experiencing now, only to realize you’ll be hurt later?

NO.

Create the life you want, live the life you want, do what YOU want.

Do not sweat the small stuff, the past, the future, the side-eyes or back-talk.

Do what YOU want, what YOU love, what YOU know you are here for a reason to do.

You’re young, you’re 21, you have a whole blank canvas in front of you that you have the ability of morphing into whatever way you please.

You are meant to live one life, that is you’re own and no one else’s as much as you may wish you were living someone else’s or someone else wishes you were living theirs…

Every path you’ve ever been on has been a good path whether or not you’re still at the top of them.

There is no right way, there is no rule book, there are no guarantees in life, but there damn well is the decision to follow who YOU want to be and BELIEVE IN WHAT YOU WANT TO DO with your life.

You’re 21, you practically just started living.

Love,

Nat

Conquering Chloe: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She took a look in the mirror, laced her new grey shoes, and stood up.

It was time to face another day at Ludington high school with the oh so sweet backstabbers she tried to avoid for two years… but now that Senior year was a month in, something made her throw all caution to the wind.

This new power of knowing she was good enough, and not needing validation from anyone but herself.

Of course it helped that she took time to herself quite a bit to know that she wasn’t faking it for her own sanity, but knowing others didn’t see her as a fraud either just validated her confidence.

People can be cruel, heartbreak can be cruel, knowing the happiest feeling in the world and having that be squandered in a matters time, can be cruel.

But trust?

Trust can do more damage, with time especially.

Trusting that life will all work out, trusting that she is capable of creating her own universe is what drives her to be the best version of herself.

Chloe took one last look over her shoulder into the mirror as she turned the glass door knob, knowing that she wouldn’t look at herself again until nightfall; when she’d appear exactly the same, yet feel completely different.

********

“I really really really don’t want to talk about school mom, please can we pick another topic?”

I was being questioned again, what was always the exact same “how was school today, did anything new happen?”

My answer was always no.

Even if something new did happen, I couldn’t picture what it would be or what I would say, all I wanted was to curl up in a ball, listen to music, and read my favorite book. I missed reading, I used to do it more but since school got more intense, a few things just skipped my mind and instead I spent my time watching my favorite show than become immersed in a written world. It would be amazing to have magical powers or some rich grandmother who turns out to be the queen, but not everyone has that life, and definitely not me.

Today I had the joy of sitting alone at lunch because Kelsey decided she’d play sick, stay home, and get out of the Algebra quiz from last hour. “Kelsey, Whyyyy” I dragged on into my pillow as I re-capped the day, trying to keep as quiet as possible so no ears could hear through the wall.

“I couldn’t face it today, tomorrow absolutely but today hell no” I said as she laughed at the end.

“What was so bad” she asked raising an eyebrow.

‘Literally, EVERYTHING.”

“Oh I know that’s not true, because I heard you spoke to Max today” she mentioned slyly with a smirk on her face.

“Ha, Ha you’re so funny, I couldn’t get one word out and it’s not what you think- I dropped an apple, he picked it up, and he said ‘you might want to get a new apple,'” I rolled my eyes at myself, “what the HECK is that!”

“It will be better tomorrow Chlo, just ask him about his Banana or something…” she muttered towards the end.

“OH MY GOD, KELSEY.”

“I literally meant the fruit! If you run into him again, at least you have a fruit thing going.”

“Do I look that daft–”

Before I could go into how badly I wanted to erase my one chance of talking to the boy I’ve been trying to get to notice me for a decade, there was a knock at the door.

“Sweetie–Kelsey’s got to go we have to get up early tomorrow to get you to school”

“Alright, Mom she’ll be gone in 10!” I shouted loud enough for the neighbor to hear.

“We’ll pick this up tomorrow, while I pick myself off the floor from cram night tonight.”

“Haha, alright I’ll see you then Kels” I got out before my stomach got a twisted feeling unsure of what would happen tomorrow.

*********

“Look–she’s hot and you know it” I heard in the distance from one of Max’s friends.

Walking down what I would call my own personal runway of hell, this didn’t make things much better. Was that what max thought of me– That I was hot? Or was that just his friend talking out of his ass?

“Hey Chlo” said an unforgiving voice in my ear–

“Oh, Madelyn Hi” I babbled out as she blocked my hearing range from the conversation literally calling my name.

“I heard you were eating apples off the floor yesterday”

“what” I said statically, taking an earphone out.

“yeah, like a little piggy, so cute! Well, I just thought I’d let you know that those might be good for cleaning your teeth but they definitley don’t work for your attitude.”

“what the–” just as I was about to give her a piece of my mind I ran into a locker.

Not just anyone’s locker– but Max’s locker.

Son of a–

“I guess the apples don’t fall far from the floor do they” Madelyn squealed with excitement as I felt an utter fool sinking into the floor.

As soon as I could, I got up and walked as calmly as I could to the nearest bathroom.

“I’m such a joke” I whispered as I closed my eyes to try to re-imagine the moment without tearing up.

Thank god it was only an hour till school was out for the weekend– I couldn’t take any more time than that being stuck here.

As the warning bell rang, I bolted out the bathroom, and fast walked up the stairs leading me into the chest of a white t-shirt.

“OW- watch where you’re going–” I shouted, looking up shocked as I noticed a hand grabbing mine and myself nearly falling backwards down two flights of stairs.

“You should be more careful” a soothing voice sounded as an unfamiliar set of blue eyes pulled me closer.

“I should be more careful– I should be?!” I turned as curly hair opened the door heading onto the ground floor, but not before leaving my purple pair of headphones in the palm of my hand.

 

*** NOTE: Let me know what you think about it please! 🙂 ***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Sparks A Piece Of History

I’m always making notes. Ever since I was able to hold a pen, I’ve been making notes, songs, writing down ideas. 
I can’t tell you how much data I’ve used up by writing notes on my phone ( and two others from before) along with my iPad (rip) and computer.
I wish there was a way for me to find all of them. Although there isn’t, there’s at least my old e-mail which hold quite a few. 
One day I’ll go through them, maybe share a few… but for now I just want to talk about how much I love writing. 
Not only do I focus better, remember tasks I’d otherwise forget, and come up with creative ideas that I put few to use, but it helps me feel like I’ve accomplished something. 
I started out with a pen and paper, even now I do still prefer a pen and paper… but, those ideas that come on around 2 am or so (the most creative I think), or the ideas that come to thought in a dream, are written in my phone. 
No matter how you look at it, you’ll see I always write and I most likely date the paper too. 
There’s something I find really cool about going to back to things I wrote or drew back in 2013, for instance, because it sparks memory and it sparks a piece of history from my life. 
It does for everyone when they discover something they thought they lost. 
The way we write tells a story too; why do we curve the g’s and y’s? 
Why do we write in cursive or print?
Why do we have sloppy handwriting sometimes and clean as pledge the next? 
There are more unique things about ourselves than what we thought…
Even when it comes to something as “simple” as writing. 
Thanks for reading. 🔥
Love, 

          Nat 💖

Live your best life 

Being 20 is just a heightened teenage level, except you add on $40,000 or so’s worth of a college hole to that, along with growing older and distant to being a kid. 

This is when you realize life is the complete opposite of easy- or at least when it really crystallizes. 

I’ll never lose my love for cartoons or the simple things in life like walking my dog, eating my favorite food on a day off, or browsing the Internet till 2 AM (although, maybe it’d be a good thing to get rid of that).

What I will lose are pieces of who I am. 

Everyone changes and morphs into whoever they are meant to be… but that’s with our own decisions– and time. 

I want to make good decisions. 

I don’t want to overwork myself at the age of 20 until I am wrinkled, lonely, and bombarded all of a sudden by children and some “new chapter of my life” because I went along with what I was expected to do.

I love new chapters, but I believe there is a right time and a right place. At the moment I’m being swarmed with what I THINK I should be doing, and not what I SHOULD be doing at the age of 20. 

This is the start to a new decade, I’ve finally almost reached the drinking age, but what about after? What will I be able to look forward to after college is finished and I’m legally able to do everything I’d need to (in talking about smoking and drinking which I’ve never had a massive interest in).

This year I am dedicating myself to my work and my goals. Not focusing on making money, more so working towards my future. 

Although, we all need money, to live. It is what it is in that case, but should everyone be worked to the core in order to thrive… or if we end up lucky, are we destined to forget the feeling of work and the accomplished feeling afterwards? 

Work, work, work, work, work, is all I feel like I’m doing. 

I love my job, I love the people I work with, however I can’t stay in this place for the rest of my life, nor should I allow myself to feel like this is all there will ever be for me, because I’m only 20. 

It’s a big number, but it’s also tiny. I still have about 60 years to go (knock on wood).

Something as little as saying “no” to working more guts me, yet not at all because I know I deserve some time off.

What life is it I’m living? 

Is it my own, or the life I feel I’m supposed to?

Maybe everyone’s right and this feeling is only temporary, however, how can I grow if this is all I know.

I hope your all living you’re best life. 

Love, 

Nat 💖

Not Yours 

** I wrote this back in November. I’m sharing it now because I’m going through old notes, and am finding a lot of poems, writings, pieces, whatever you want to call them.🌸All I want to add is that a whole lot can change in just one year.🎬** 

It’s been next to five months and I can still feel his lips on mine.

 I can feel his arms wrapped around my waist as he pulls me in for a hug. I always loved those. 

I can sense his eyes as my own follow a page of a book. 

I can hear his heart as it asks to be mine, but I refuse to take it. 

And now I understand why he ran when I finally came to the decision to express that I loved him. 

He couldn’t handle me. 

Back and forth I went, in fact I made a bet with myself on when he would get sick of me. Purely because, I wanted him too. 

I forced my way out of his heart in order to protect my own.

 But what I would come to find is that when I felt the time was right, he would vanish because something pretty and new had walked by. 

 And it was no surprise to me that I couldn’t keep his eye. 

But what would provoke me to believe I was at a loss when he had given up something he couldn’t see, something he defied in every sense of beauty, someone who claimed she was the queen. 

Oh dear heart, if only you knew. 

It was his choice, not yours, to let go of you. 

Comments On Cheating

Cheating isn’t cool.

I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, point blank is that it’s not another thing to add to why one gender is worse than another.

So many comments on all sorts of platforms, including real-life revolve around who cheats more, men, or women. If you are a man it’s likely you’ll say women, and if you are a woman it’s likely you’ll say men, ESPECIALLY if you yourself have experienced cheating. Of course this doesn’t apply to everyone on the planet, however I’d like to think at least some people see where I’m coming from.

To feel as if you can’t trust another person is one level, but to KNOW that someone has the audacity to cheat or hurt and then lie in your face is another.

You, yes YOU deserve better. You deserve to know better, and be loved by better.

I don’t want you to think slimey people are all that exist after one encounter with a partner that just hits the fan. I definitely don’t want that to happen if it was your first relationship.

But I especially don’t want it to become a battle consistently of whether or not men are the biggest cheaters, or women are.

Life is complicated as it is, should we really throw more gasoline on the fire?

Whether or not you were cheated on, know YOU are still fine as hell. There’s zero reason for you to doubt your self-worth, whether or not you were good enough, pretty enough, loving enough, NO.

And there is zero reason to single-out any gender, or place the blame for some of human-kinds misguided and idiotic people on a sole string of incidents that are relatable for almost every person in a comment section.

This is the cheaters problem. It is all the cheaters problem. You may not see the justice now, but know darn well it’s coming and karma will quite simply smack them in the face if you’re not quick enough to yourself.

Do me a favor though, please?

Recognize that it’s not a genders issue, it’s a cheater’s mind.

P.S. Recognize that you’re sad and it’s okay to be sad rather than playing it off… it’s okay to be sad for a while, however long you need to, but also remember that time waits for no one and once you understand they weren’t a waste of time but a blur of lessons, then you can begin to accept that the world will turn with or without that toxic person in you’re life.

And sometimes, too much of a good thing– or what you think is at least– really isn’t so good after all.

Love,

Nat

 

 

It doesn’t get to you 

It doesn’t get to you until you step inside the doorway.
It doesn’t get to you until you hear ” I feel the baby kick.” 
And you’re immediate reaction is to place you’re hand on her stomach. 
It doesn’t get to you until the hour long drive back home that feels like a breeze,
But over time grows more and more distant.
It doesn’t get to you until empty spaces are filled with friends of family.
It doesn’t get to you until you look at the backyard and remember looking up instead of down
It doesn’t get to you until you drive down the road you learned to ride you’re bike on.
You’re first wheels. 
It doesn’t get to you until a tiny hand is placed in the palm of yours and you realize, this is the most precious thing. 
It doesn’t get to you until tears well up in you’re eyes and everything stops briefly.
While you’re hand is on her stomach,
And you can envision the life ahead. 
It doesn’t get to you until then. 
It doesn’t even phase you. 
*** Note: I literally just wrote this out of nowhere thinking of earlier today. Hope you don’t mind me sharing it. I hope you all have a good day too. *** 

Love,

           Nat 💖

I Have A Choice

Get this.

I’m wearing this eyeshadow, I’m wearing this full face of makeup, or at least what *I* consider a full face of makeup— for Myself.

I’m not wearing it because social media told me to.

I have a choice.

I have an option of whether or not I want to wear makeup.

Everyone seems to try to pinpoint what is “right” and what is “wrong” all the time, or they try to keep on everyone’s side to seem like they aren’t bias.

Now let me tell you, I care, I do. I care a lot about everyone I meet, what people think of me (semi-sometimes) because everyone feels this way, it’s just natural to care.

Everyone questions “am I good enough, is this winged liner even, do I even feel like wearing foundation today… no, but I’m going to wear it anyways because there’s this cute guy in my class and in order for me to work up the courage to even look at him I have to look inside my soul, find this confidence that’s buried somewhere, and LET IT FREE by wearing whatever make-up makes me feel damn GOOD on this day.”

Yes, that sentence was completely bombastic and slightly unnecessary.

But the key thing to remember out of what I just said is confidence.

Everyone has it, it’s fueled by different things. Me for instance, I do better at life in general when I feel like myself, when I feel good, whether that’s with make-up or without.

There used to be a time where I wore make-up because I felt like I had to. I felt naked without it, or I felt just completely not myself.

And sometimes I still do feel that way, but I’ve noticed the caring on that level has SUNK, let me tell you.

I went out in public, with no makeup, hadn’t washed my hair, I looked like I was going through a crisis slightly, because I kinda sort of was, and I took a smoothie to this guy that sort of liked me but I wanted to be clear we were just friends and I thought he was sweet.

SoooooOoOoooOOOOOO I went back in the house and immediately was asked “what, you went out like that?” and I said “yes, who cares? If he likes me anyways then he needs to see the real me, and accept me, right?”

*laughs at self *

…………………………………

ohhh my goddd

And then the other person just looked at me and smiled probably internally screaming “what happened to you?!?!?!”

But seriously, I’m sitting here telling you that you don’t have to do what everyone else is doing to feel good about yourself.

You don’t have to wear a full face of makeup; you don’t even have to wear any make-up.

And yes I know there are girls that exist who do both proudly and props to you, I am that person too—sometimes.

But the truth is, I just love makeup. And, I also just love rubbing my eyes.

Everyone stresses about being liked but it’s all about doing whatever you like— that will help you achieve this happiness and validation you’re searching for.

And if you’re really looking for likes, you need to be yourself. An original, not a copy of a neighbor or celebrity; you’ll be surprised how many positive responses you get when you yourself feel good about what you’re doing, wearing, and putting out into the world.

*P.S. I sort of want to film a video on this, do you have any thoughts on it? Am I missing anything or do you sort of relate to me at all? I’d love to hear. 🙂

Love,

Nat