roadgoes–everon.
I miss everybody!
Not even sure why I’ve got a million people starting to follow me. Go follow my new blog roadgoes–everon !
(via onessmokin)
@flyawaysoonThese look like the best cheese sticks ever.
This made me moan in want.
It’s such a beautiful day. I truly don’t think the weather could be any more perfect. It seems like such a stark contrast from yesterday.
It’s like the universe wanted me to feel better.
Gives me a little hope that things will get better. ❤
“If you want a friend, you need to be a friend. If you want love, you need to give out love. If you want loyalty, you must be loyal.
"Be all the things you want out of others, and everything will fall into place.”
I lied, I’m straight up deleting this blog and starting over fresh.
Like this if you want me to follow you on my new blog.
I wish I wasn’t so afraid of losing things in life. Loss is a part of life, but after almost 26 years I still can’t come to terms with certain loses and knowing that I’m going to lose everyone I love at some point. The thought of being alone already terrifies me, add that to the fact that I’ve lost an insurmountable amount of loved ones in my life makes it so much worse. Knowing that the worst is yet to come is a mainstay of my anxiety. My head literally can’t wrap itself around that fact, and I don’t think it ever truly will.
I’m fucked up from all the losses I’ve dealt with since before I can even remember, losing my father of his own free will, my grandfather, my grandmother, which effectively ended my childhood, losing various family members, then came the time I began losing friends who I thought would always be there, and then I started to fall in love and quickly realized loss can be felt even deeper than I ever imagined. Knowing that somebody who at one time you would give up your own life for, who meant more than anything that’s ever existed on this earth, who you gave your precious unredeemable time to, still walks this earth somewhere far away physically and emotionally is, in a way, more heartbreaking than death. Knowing that somebody once shared your dreams, your life, and your soul but no longer wished for you to exist in their world sucks. How many pieces of myself have I lost through death and heartbreak? How many more pieces of me do I still have to give? I’ve never felt what being whole is like, I’ve only loved with these broken pieces that others have shattered me into, I’ve lost so much of my own being that I’m not sure I could ever be who I should’ve been; I don’t think I could ever love like I should be able to. My heart already breaks from the knowledge that the future only holds more suffering, as though I’ve been trained to only expect the worst. I always preemptively prepare for the end of things, whether that be death or something else.
I don’t have much left to give, what I do have I covet and cherish because it’s all I’ve got. I can’t love somebody perfectly, for I’m not perfect, and I can’t always give the ones I love what they deserve. The pieces of me I hand out have sharp edges that cut and pierce deeply, sometimes leaving scars that may never fade. They aren’t smooth, but jagged, and sometimes razor sharp, and when they’re given back to me they hurt a million times worse. Whenever I lose someone I try so hard to let that part of me die because I hate memories, they always seem to mock me and laugh in my face, they’re testaments to my failures and my pain. Even the good memories are painful.
Honestly if it weren’t for written words and pictures I’d forget most of what’s happened to me. It’s like my whole life I’ve actively tried to forget most of my memories, like some sort of defense, or armour. I don’t really have many good memories, there’s never been many of those “I’ll always look back on this moment and smile” because there’s always been that shadow of how things ended up. Those happy memories are reminders of what could have been, but will never be.
I wish I didn’t always sabotage myself in every way, but I don’t know much outside self-destruction, and I suppose I never will, I’ll just continue to love with these few jagged pieces I have left, but I don’t think I can give them out to anyone new. I’m too terrified of losing everyone I have now to put that kind of faith, time, love and energy into anyone, or anything, else. Heartbreak has never once gotten easier, loss has made me harder; harder to love others, harder to let go, and harder to BE loved.
I’ll probably always cling desperately, and for far too long, onto things that I love, and maybe that’s my biggest issue.