Labyrinth

I've never really been at a loss for words. If there's one thing that's always there for me, its words. Because words can explain so much of what goes on inside my head, and thats comforting. For once in my life I couldn't fathom the feelings of suffering and aching torment into words because it would be an understatement.

No,  this isn't another blog post dedicated to 'him'. This blog post is for me, he doesn't deserve the recognition.

But I think I'm ready to write it all down.

I was struggling with the relationship, I wanted more and expected more out of him. I was sick of hearing compliment after compliment, I wasn't getting what I wanted so naturally I confronted him about it. I wanted something deeper, I wanted more substance but he wasn't able and willing to do the same. I was having doubts so I told him, but I didn't tell him what I wanted because when I was away I came to some distorted conclusion that I might not actually need him. I was wrong. I loved him of course I loved him. I never saw us as being separate, even when I was on the other side of the world. I promoted the fact that I had this amazing boyfriend back home, I bragged about it to people I met and to my family. Even though I might have not been 100% happy with the relationship, there was still this incredible person back home that I got to call mine.

The closer I got to coming home the more I wanted to see him. I felt like being away just reassured me that I really did want to be with him. I literally smiled the whole plane ride home because I knew that with each passing minute I was getting closer to seeing him.
But when I arrived back home I didn't get to see him. It was like as soon as I got home he changed his attitude completely. He didn't want to talk, and even when we were he was vacant. Concerned and upset I asked the question 'do you still want to be with me?'.

I'm not going to go into detail of what happened from the friday night to the sunday night. It was an extremely prolonged break up details are not really necessary.

He hurt me, and he knows it. I'm struggling to get words out. As I type my wrists ache and my fingers feel as though they're filling with cement.
When I was away my boyfriend did something I never could have imagined him doing. Especially when all I got from him is how much he was in love with me. I thought he was a different person. But he is nothing to brag about, not anymore. I'm not going to make this a sour post, because he made me so happy, so so incredibly happy. I thought I made him happy too. But after he did what he did I had to question every single moment I had with him, I had to question all the words he spoke to me because if he mean't them I wouldn't be sitting here today typing this. I just need to forget what I feel for him and remember what I deserve. Because even after all of this I still love him with the shattered pieces of my broken heart.

No he doesn't deserve these words he doesn't deserve this attention but its somewhat therapeutic. I hope he reads this and knows that I still think about him every second of every day, his name is in the back of my mind constantly, over ruling every decision that I make. Also he needs to know that I don't take back anything I've said, every word I wrote for him I mean't, even though he might not be able to say the same. I really fucking love(d) him.
 But when someone says his name out loud it makes me physically sick to my stomach. Sick not because of hatred or jealousy. Sick because no one has ever made me feel so worthless and when I hear his name I am reminded that someone who I thought cared so much about me, can with no hesitation tear everything we built together into a million pieces. I can't wait for the day when I can hear his name and feel absolutely nothing.
I'm trying to take this peacefully and remember the good times we had together, but every time something sparks a memory of us it is immediately disrupted by the thought of his tongue down someone else's throat and his hands on someone else's bare body.

But what hurts the most: the fact that he was willing to give up on us so easily. It seemed to be standard for him, to fuck up and just leave. If he loved me as much as he said he did then he wouldn't have just left. He would have fought for my forgiveness. He didn't fight for us he just gave up. And how he could give up on me so easily is what hurts the most.

He hurt me? no hurt is by far an understatement.

I don't care that I am young and not married or whatever. These are real feelings and don't you dare doubt that I know what I'm talking about.

And no, I will no longer be his "Bee" because that was supposed to be something that forever reminded me of my first love. I don't want to be "his" if this is how he treats me.

My name is Anna I am my own person I can look after myself I don't need to be someone's to validate me I am my own being I have a labyrinth inside of me and I am not sorry.

I feel better now. I'll need to find a new way of signing off my posts.

Amsterdam

I was sitting with my family in a cafe next to a busy road and a busy canal.

The sun was setting, it warmed my face and illuminated the loose tousles of hair that danced on the heads of my Aunt and her son. They looked at each other with endearment, discussing something that he found much more amusing than she did.
A cold breeze refreshed the smell of tobacco that hung around my nostrils, and stole the slight warmth that the deceiving sun gave me. The taste of coffee rich on my tastebuds warmed the roof of my mouth and my insides. I was in the midst of several different foreign conversations when I realized how perfectly happy I was in that moment.

I imagined myself kissing the cheeks of my Aunt 3 times and saying goodbye and thanking her for the coffee. I imagined myself getting on my bike and riding through and around the narrow streets of Amsterdam and along the Amstel river to my apartment. I imagined throwing my keys on the counter and shaking off my jacket, then greeting my flat mate who's head was buried in a book surrounded by study notes. Then I imagined going into my room and sitting at my desk and studying. Actually studying and wanting to learn because I was actually enjoying my course.

That was how I wished I was spending the rest of that day.

However, as with every moment, the feeling ended. But I will remember it, and I will use it as motivation to get be to where I want to be. Because I am going to have to work my butt off to experience that again, but to actually be in the moment instead of just imagining it.

Thats what I want so so so badly.

Bee

Heartbreak Cafe

I know what you're thinking, and no I don't mean to title this 'heartbreak hotel'. Although I do appreciate Mr Presley's lyrical genius, this is not the chosen topic for todays blog.

I was riding shotgun as dad and I made our way through the crowded streets of Hollands political capital. Usually I struggle to sit down in a car for so long without music, but on this particular day my thoughts were firing so loud I didn't need it. I didn't mind it either. I'd use music as a distraction from the boredom and the thoughts that might enter my head when forced to sit down for long periods of time. Outside the window, the shades of brown brick buildings laced with white door frames titled towards and away from moving red cobblestone pathway. The drive didn't need any distractions, the streets spoke to me in a way no other inanimate thing has. 

Then we drove past a small corner cafe. It was located in the least busiest part of the town, and hidden within two other run down residential buildings. I wondered if anyone would actually go there to eat. Contrary to the half lit "OPEN" sign, the place looked like it had been closed for years.

What made it stick so well in my memory was its name: 'Heartbreak Cafe'. I started thinking about heart break. Duh. And I came to the conclusion that heartbreak doesn't have to be singularly associated to being in love with someone, and having them leave you, or you leave them. To experience the feeling of 'heartbreak', all it takes is a single relationship with anything, not specifically romantic, just an attachment to any one or thing. I don't think you have to have your heart broken to experience heartbreak. If this is the case then I can say that I have experienced heartbreak many many times.

I feel it here in Holland. I feel it knowing that I'm going to have to go back home soon, and that I can't call this place my home even though it feels 100 times more familiar than New Zealand.
I felt it as I fell out of love, for no particular reason.
I feel it every time my mother and I are arguing, I feel it when I look in to her disappointed eyes.
I feel it when I hurt my best friends, and I don't mean to.
I'll feel it saying good-bye to my Oma for the last time.
I've felt it leaving Holland, and I'll feel it again.

Heartbreak happens. It's another one of those shitty things that happen that are completely out of our power to control. I guess its just one of those things where you'll listen to Ben Howard on repeat and stare out of the car window and embrace it. But don't forget it. You can't forget the memory of the thing and you can't forget how much you ached when it left. And don't let yourself disconnect from those feelings because when you strip away all the ribbon and embellishments, what's left is a naked you: a sum of your experiences that you should not be ashamed of.

I feel heartbreak, but I'm not broken. Nothing can can break you down to the extent that not even that one person or that one place can fix.

Sincerely,

Bee

Even if this is just for now

It's hard not to think about you.

 Not a minute goes by where I don't think about you, and us. And us being apart does get me down sometimes, and of course leaving you is hard. I do struggle a lot, when you're not with me. Truth is, I'm just scared. I'm scared that something will change. Because there is an infinite amount of possible outcomes that could take place when you get on that bus and I walk away. Every single time I see you I'm scared it's the last. I'm scared something will happen to you or to me, and I couldn't be there to say I'm sorry I broke your heart.
You and I just need to know that there is a part of us that is greater than the sum of our parts. A part of us that may not necessarily be living, but is there. And that part of us exists together: they've already entwined and god knows what will happen to us in the future but there will always be a part of me thats still with a part of you.

I know I need to trust this, and I need to trust us. Because for every tomorrow there is still an us.
Us.
There is always Us. And within that set of infinite possible outcomes, I know there's something worth waiting for. You and I are on the edge of the unknown. But there's always something, not matter how meager it may be, there is always something to hold on to.

Just like the first time I saw you. It only took a moment, something felt familiar in your face. Life is just a series of moments and I am so thankful for the moments we've had. Whether if those moments we shared together or apart, they are without the doubt some of the better moments I've had. I am so thankful to know you. And I am so thankful to be yours.

The months I've known you have been incredibly special. But one moment with you is enough. It's enough to validate us, and to know that we are right in every sense.

Even if this is just for now, I will always be thankful to know you. And I will never ever be ashamed to say that I had fallen deeply and hopelessly in love with you.

Bee

Rest

Words can not describe how badly I want to rest.
Just for a while.
I just want to rest somewhere else, somewhere by myself. Where I can surround myself with words and rhythms and monochrome colors.
A different kind of rest than sleeping. I find that I am the most uncomfortable when I lay down at night, when my thoughts run wild.

I want the kind of rest you feel when you are the most comfortable. I constantly crave something else. I want the kind of rest you feel when you drink your hot coffee on a rainy day on the 12th floor of your building. I want the kind of rest you feel when you arrange those sunflowers you hand picked in a glass vase on your desk top. I want the kind of rest you feel as you sit on the last afternoon bus and re-read your favorite pages from your favorite book. I want the kind of rest you feel as you drive through the night under the street lights and listen to the music you once received as a present from a lost love.

I just want the tension in my head and in my body to go away.

Rest with me for a while.
Lay in my arms, so I can hear your heart beating.


Bee

the school thing

I can't do the school thing anymore.

I just can't do it. I've forgotten how. Literally I've lost all motivation for everything concerning high school, and I can see how much that's hurting my parents.
For all the right reasons, I'm doing it for them. Because I am their only child if I fail at life they fail at life. Of course I want to succeed and I want to get a job and a family and all that jazz. But I'm 17. The only thing I think about regarding the future is what I'm having for dinner tonight and when the next time I can get drunk is.

So I'm over the school thing. I started my final year of high school super keen and actually excited about learning my new subjects. Then I'm not entirely sure what happened. After the rowing season (which ended in march) I didn't do all the things I had planned on doing. Which was: study and keep on top of my subjects, exercise daily and keep up my rowing fitness, and apply for scholarships to row for universities over seas. After the rowing season, there was no way I wanted to keep rowing. So that blew my scholarship idea out of the water, and tore my mother apart.
And Im sure the only reason it hurt her so bad was because 'I had so much potential I was just throwing away.' But thats all I've ever been. This great big block of walking potential that was never lived up to. Applicable to 1) when I would swim competitively (which I also quit much to my mothers despair.) 2) My school work and studies, you're so smart if you just studied more you could be Dux or whatever!
3) Rowing. I had the 'body of an olympic rower' I just never tried hard enough. But I quit that so another big waste of potential!
Thats why it hurts my parents so much, I'm sure. And of course I don't want to hurt them, but I feel like I had just dug myself so deep in this hole that it would literally take like a rocket powered engine to get me back onto earths surface. That is why it hurt my parents so much to see my self esteem plummet and my complete loss of motivation for life.

So I can't do the school thing anymore, and it's at that time of year when I really should be doing the school thing plus more. I pretty much only study because I know it makes my parents happy, yeah getting good marks makes me happy too. But primarily, I'm doing it for them and they're my motivation.

Nothing sucks more than knowing you have nil motivation, therefore not having the motivation to change it. I know its entirely up to me but at the same time theres nothing there and theres nothing within myself to change.

I hate this feeling.

Thanks,
Bee

Trust

Sometimes I wish we could open ourselves up to each other as much as we do to the sky. Because there is something about the stars that makes you realize both the smallness and the enormity of everything.

And there is something about opening yourself up to someone that makes you realize the dimensions within yourself, and the hundreds of layers within your mind that no one will ever understand as much as you do yourself, and even you don't fully understand
I like to think I am a very open person. I put a lot of trust into literally everyone. Mostly because I believe that what you give is what you get. When people come to me with their deepest fears or confessions, It makes me feel needed. And in all honesty I need someone to confide in because theres no way I could confide in myself.

Theres always writing I suppose. I would write a lot when I didn't feel like talking to anyone. Mostly lists of words though, no actual sentences. Just all the words that come into my head at that moment. Then later, I might go back to that list of words and arrange them in some way that makes sense.

I want people to write me lists just as I write for them.
So many words I have dedicated to people that more than likely would never dedicate a thing to me.

Small rant.

Thanks,
Bee

where i am

I sit stationary in a dead classroom, with teenagers thriving with blood made of finite hope: Screaming but remaining voiceless; living but suffering in stark.

I am not here; I am anywhere else.

I am the little shadow that runs across the grass and looses itself in the sunset. I am the flash of a firefly in the night sky. I am the loose strand of wind- tousled hair that dances on her bare shoulder. I am the live music that bites through your skins and mixes with nerves and veins. I am the thin air and the sinking grass, the lace patterns of light and shadow.

I am there.