My Angel. Mon Ange. I don’t know if I can ever stand hearing those words again. I may not be paralyzed, but…I just can’t move. I can’t bring myself to move on, because I’m not with you. I don’t know if I ever will be, and it hurts. It hurts all the more to know that you’re there, to hear people say you don’t exist, just because they haven’t seen you, and most importantly, to look around, see all the happy people, see the contact, the love, and not have anything physical I can share that with but a Teddy Bear.
I don’t get to cuddle. I don’t get to hold hands, or kiss. Of course there are those moments in time when a friend will sense things are off, and give me that hand to hold, but, it’s still not the same. It hurts me to be with people who are so free in their sharing of love, and feel the need to obstain, to save what I have for the one I love most, and truest of all, yet, as each day passes, we grow farther apart, and despite my hardest attempts, you remain silent to my advances. I love you to ribbons, but…it hurts me so to lie here in tears, wishing I understood all the emotions I go through every day.
Some call it teenage angst, some call it ‘emo’, but where does one go with a heart full of love, and no where to put it? Some would tell me to dump him and move forward, and others would say, “I’ve seen how happy you are, just stick it out”. The confusion in my mind is rampant, chaotic, violent in nature. I want to cry, but I just can’t. I feel so numb. I need to be strong. Dad’s never here, so it’s up to me. I have to care for her, bring home the grades, pay the bills, do the shopping, do the homework, and where’s the time for my enjoyment? In the art of dramtics I find my greatest of all pleasures, yet, I also find the greatest of all pains. Each and every single day, I’m confronted with the most welcoming and understanding of all groups of people, but outside of that place, the large building that has become not a home but a sancutary, I am alone.
The tears begin to well as the reality sinks in. Isolation and indiferance are all that I find. Wierd looks, whispered rumors, hatred, misunderstanding surround. People tell me I’m beautiful. The art within me is pure. Each kind word is like a dagger to one who feels so ugly. Why would someone claim to be something they’re not. Why would someone lie, just to make themselves feel better. I am unaware of all these things, yet, deep down, I understand them. A vice is a vice is a vice indeed, but, one would do anything to escape the melancholia that derives from this solitude.
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This piece holds very strong feelings and emotions. I think it is a beautiful story, it holds a certain mystery. Have you thought about turning this into a play or even opera? Just a suggestion, great work.
This is a very interesting peice. I like how you describe the feelings of the character, and especially how these feelings are worded. I like the imagery that you provided, the beautiful yet sorrowful vocabulary. Perhaps it could be better worded, as to be more easily understood.. but overall, I think it is beautifully written, a precious thought.
“I can’t bring myself to move on, because I’m not with you.” I do believe this sentence is my favorite, and says so much.
Very well done, kudos to you.
Hard and honest words…Possible feel this when I read this testemony. I’m rookie in English Language but I like this metaphors: “The tears begin to well as the reality sinks in.”
Keep writing!
Good job!
wow this is very deep. i love it. it is very emotional and expressive. the way you wrote it is very good. i think i may go have a look at your other writings once i am done with this. keep up the good work!
The potency of this expressive writing is intense. At first, I thought the theme was going to mainly target on the aspect of the classic heart break of a teenage girl, but it developed further then that. This isn’t merely pain of the broken heart, but the anxiety of what a young adult feels, like myself who can certainly relate more then you know. It’s not just the prospect of loosing a guy who feel strongly about, not saying love because only you know this, but it’s also the pressure we face in our teenage years. This age range was deeply misunderstood to an extensive amount. Stereotypical remarks, silenced thoughts also comes into play. These judgments aren’t just conducted by other students in high school, but also the adult world as well. When we think of the word “teenager” we automatically think these following words, rebellious, stubborn, drugs, alcohol, mischievous, etc. Adults can fit these categories as well, not just this age group.
-veronica
I do not like the can’t move on sentance. Maybe it is the repetion of the word “move” after too short a distance. I know you were playing with the words here and everything, but it sounds funny to read. To me the way things sound is as important as what you mean by them.
The first sentance is cool because the reader expects sweetness and gets sour. I dig that ole’ switcheroo.
After that though the writing gets boring. You don’t make me care. How is your story any different? Why would some one want to read this?
I, myself, do not get to cuddle and kiss, but why do I care that you can’t either. Neither can Chad or Brittani or Leah or ect….......
Don you know what I mean?
I really appreciate this pearl! I can not write about grammar because I’m rookie in English Language, but I love this moment: “A vice is a vice is a vice indeed, but, one would do anything to escape the melancholia that derives from this solitude.” Really nice way to finish a story!
Keep writing!
Aloha!
i love your honesty here. i feel like you’ve poured your heart out, and it wasn’t too sappy or self-indulgent. you have good writing skills too, vocab, grammar and all. it’s not angst, and it’s not emo, it’s much older than either of those concepts, and just like everything else, it will come and go. it’s not permanent. (= keep at it and you’ll find what you need. oh and write about it when you do.
Blogs or journaling is a great way to spill the angst out of the mind, but unfortunately, until you step back away from it and allow yourself to start living and create your poem … about you … this hollow space will just fill back up with more paralzying angst. The relief will only be temporary and one day there will be no relief, just hardness. Get on with life and with loving and step outside of this. When you are ready spirit will fly and you will see with new eyes. People come into our life for a reason, but the journey must go on. You will not lose.. just add on.
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