things that still hurt like a motherfucker
Sep 9, 2018 · 2 min read
- The feeling of putting sore feet in an ice bucket. You’d always imagined how it might’ve felt and it felt that way, until the pain starts seeping in. You didn’t even think to expect it. But it’s still there even when you take them out.
- The feeling of leaning up against kitchen countertops and crying. The feeling of crash diets that ended the day with jell-o cups. The feeling of actually ending the day with three protein bars covered in chocolate or four one hundred calorie snack packs. Or both. The feeling of numbers written on graph paper. The feeling of pinching everything in the mirror. The feeling of resentment when it turns into worthiness of love and life.
- When all you needed, more than anything was “everything’s going to be okay”
- The feeling of the people who never said goodbye and the hope that they regret it. Because you had always assumed that you would never miss them. Until you remember hand-ball and getting banned from kitty cat corners and the blisters from the monkey bars that you wore like badges of honor. Until you remember face time calls and talent shows and late nights with loud music. It all seems too cliche until the pain starts seeping in. And then you miss the people who didn’t even care enough to say goodbye.
- The last voicemail you left your dad. The last voicemail he left you.
- The feeling of watching the people who hold your heart hold those of another. When they laugh with someone who took yours. When they “fix things with them” when you are still trying to find the directions on how to feel okay again.
- People forgetting your birthday.
- Forgetting other people’s birthdays
- Imaginary love letters. The idea of holding someone’s hand. Teen romcoms that could almost be real. Wanting to be someone’s “person”. Wanting to make your best friend angry with how much time you spend with your “person”.
- Knowing that attractiveness is subjective. Knowing that compatibility is difficult when you’re a little broken. Knowing that you’re the girl the boys jokingly ask out. Knowing you’re the designated driver and the fat friend and the “she’s…super sweet” and the Martha Dunstock of this world. Knowing that you’re the “not worth it”.
- Waiting for the anomolies that find you. Waiting for the people who stay and love and care and Waiting for the people who decide to stay.
