conversions with a best friend:

infiniteeee: omg wtf it's midnight
infiniteeee: i have to go to bed
youretheglacier: =(
infiniteeee: as effie trinket would say, i have a big big day tomorrow!
infiniteeee: ...anyway
infiniteeee: g'night
youretheglacier: ELIZABETHBANKS
infiniteeee: y'all.
infiniteeee: can i start talking like a texan now
infiniteeee: y'all.
youretheglacier: ohh honey you dont even know
infiniteeee: Y'ALL GO DOWN TO BED NOW Y'HERE?
youretheglacier: and when you say that in texas, we just shoot you
infiniteeee: goodnight woof.
youretheglacier: also it's *hear you ignorant midwestern
youretheglacier: BYE

our hearts are heavy:

One day, I might forget what your laugh sounded like. Or the way you smiled. Or the sound of your voice. I might forget what it felt like to have you hold me or the irritation I always felt when you wouldn't let me off the phone. I, someday, may not remember the panic that used to set in from a middle of the night phone call, or the dread that would settle in my stomach each time we'd have to call an ambulance to pull you out from a reaction. But Mamaw, I will never forget you.

You would have been sixty-five years old today. Last year, Mom and I celebrated by coming to your house with presents. This year we celebrated by taking flowers to your grave. It's funny how things could change in an instant, isn't it? You used to always tell me to be sure I told people that I loved them, because they could go at any time. I never thought you would prove me right. But the last things I told you were that I love you, and the last thing you told me was that you loved me the mostest.

You also used to tell me about how you hated that people didn't come visit you, even though I did. And Cede did. And Bretta, Royce, my mom, my uncle. You used to tell me that one day we'd come in and find you dead. Quite the opposite, really. You died surrounded by family that loved you. You died when I was there. And I'm both happy and sad that I was there with you, because I know that you would have wanted me there.

You were right about so many things, and I realize that now. Even if it took losing you to understand it. You taught me so much, and you were always there to hold my hand or help me through any tough time. I hope that I helped through yours, too. I hope that, whatever happens after death and wherever you are, you know that I love you. The mostest.

it's been a rough year

but can you think of anything more beautiful?

a person's a person, no matter how small:

Here's the thing. I've never really looked at myself in the mirror and thought "Wow, look how beautiful I am". I've never been that type of girl. I'm the girl with the self-conscious prick that lives inside her head, the one that is consistently nagging and reminding that I am not good enough. I'm not pretty enough, not thin enough, not talented enough. When writing, I refer to this little creature as my "Inner Editor". That dreadful thing that nitpicks everything I put into words. Well, reality is that the damn thing is around much more than I'd like.

But then there's days like the last couple, where I've looked in the mirror and thought about the good things about me. My bright blue eyes. My pale skin. The stray freckles that have crept onto my face. My smile. Things like that that make me tilt my head up, walk with a little more dignity, and tell my Inner Editor to go fuck itself.

Because I am good enough. I am smart enough, pretty enough, talented enough. And fuck anyone who tells me otherwise.

and to be completely honest, you're not like all the rest.

In the last eight years of my life, I've had my ups and downs with depression, and this blog is a testament to exactly that. It's seen me at my worsts, and at my bests. I started this blog in July 2007 - it's been almost four years to the date! - as a way to cope with the loss of my grandfather and my crippling depression. I've gone through stages since then with this blog, where I'm writing almost constantly to where there's no updates for months at a time. But this blog, this place has always been there for me and my thoughts.

I stopped writing in March. Or maybe before that, but March seems to be the best example of exactly what happened. But I need to write again. I need to let those thoughts out and let myself feel.

I never wrote about losing my grandmother, my Mamaw. I wasn't strong enough at the time, and I'm still not sure if I'm capable of doing it now. I don't think I can force myself to do it tonight, or maybe not anytime soon. But that's okay, because writing about it and acknowledging that it happened will happen sooner or later. But right now, I'm not quite ready.

formspring.me

You see I've got this American Love... http://formspring.me/starsonharbors

so far but yet so close

Things have never been quite as rough as they've been in the last two weeks. I'm winding down, with no energy left to explain what I've gone through. But I'll leave you with this. And I'll come back for more as soon as I get some rest.