february twenty fifth twenty fifteen

its not even the twenty fifth yet and i cried today
it hits me every once in a while that he's not here
he left almost one year ago
and it still breaks my heart

terik gagon is still one of my closest friends.
i talk to him when i cant talk to anyone else. and he listens, even though he's busy.

i sometimes think about what it would be like if he were here.
he'd probably live a building down from me, and we'd both be confused about american heritage homework. but he'd know what to do- he always did.

i hope you smile at every friend you see
and you embrace them every chance you get, because you never know when itll be your last

january first twenty sixteen

page 1 of 365

i thought the first page of this new story would've been different but it wasnt
i thought an addict could stop smoking after a year but he cant
even if he wills himself to leave that cigarette on the table somehow it finds its way in between his teeth
actions speak louder than words but words speak louder to the conscience
but the voice that speaks words to myself is becoming more weary by the night

i thought the first page of my new story was going to be less torn but it wasnt
the corners are folded and wrinkled




but ive realized that worn pages are loved.
and that these pages have been read over and over again
and maybe hard times and trials are better stories to tell than the fairytales.

please come back.

dear tess- i miss you.

i know its my fault that you left. i messed up again, and i know youve heard this a thousand times before, but hear me out alright?
i had to clear my head. and that week spent in london with liquor instead of with you was torture. i broke my phone against the wall.
and i cant believe you're still here. you stayed.
why?

i just hope you wont figure out why because once you do i know you'll be gone. the towel still wet from the last shower you took. the vanilla still fresh in the bathroom. the toothbrush still on the counter becuase you'll forget it. i know you will.

and every touch i get past today is a bonus, because once today becomes tomorrow ill just have memories.
and memories wont last forever, but theyll get me through tomorrow.
tess- youve got to know im sorry. the way it all started isnt how i wanted it to. and i cant erase it or change it now but i can say im sorry. and i can love you the rest of my life becuase thats what ive been doing since that day.

and ill always crave you in the most innocent ways. and ill always want to wake up to your annoying alarm clock becuase that means youre still here with me. and ill want to fall asleep next to you, and as i crawl into bed youll wrap you arms around me like you do every night and ill love you all over again. and ill wish for you to scream at me when i leave my jeans on the floor, just so i can see the way you scrunch your nose when youre upset. and ill always want you, tess. nothing will change it. theres no one else but you.

i love you.
always
harry x.

First Day of My Life. Bright Eyes

i have mental anxiety attacks.
if i think about college too much my palms start to sweat.
if i try to calculate how much i need to save for college i almost cry.
moving out makes me want to cringe.
and house payments makes me want to fly away with peter pan tonight.

growing up is hard. i decided that today.
transitioning from getting an all paid senior trip to not going on a trip til youre a senior is hard.
and going to lone peak didnt help that

Clouds. One Direction

i was drowning breathing in air.

the more i tried to breathe the more i died

blinking away the wind made it worse

the stadium turned off. the roar was tremendous. 

i was falling. the sky becoming more distant.
the parachute was caught on the heel of my boot.
the string refusing to loosen.

neon was glowing. the music blared. it was happening.

i struggled to reach my boot.
adrenaline told me the clouds werent getting any closer.

drums pounded. the guitar sang its first note.

i was in denial. what am i supposed to do now?

the fireworks flew high and sparked red.

i accepted my fate.

i was dying. and one direction was singing clouds

heres to harold

"this is the starting of my greatest fear..."
the first line i wrote on my first page of my creative writing journal
its been about six months since ive started writing
and since this blog. happy birthday blog.

i think the most embarrassing thing i ever did in that class was cry when i read my final.
i cant believe i did that. to this day its the one thing i still regret.
and yet i was proud of myself.
i wanted to read my real talk post. but my conscience just didnt want to. she knew i would cry if i read that as my final, and she had a reputation to uphold.
but i won. the ego went out the window. and i embarrassed myself.

the day i found out harold miner took my post to top 5 was the day i knew i wanted to write. and i loved to write. it meant i could do this. and posts that i felt were tasteless, werent. that my thoughts and ideas were worth something.

its not that i didnt think i was good. but its always nice to hear praise.

creative writing changed my life. i think more creatively than before. i write when im feeling stressed or need an outlet. its helped me get through some tough times. and i want to continue to write throughout my life.

so heres to harold miner- for making writing feel like a choice, and not like homework
*champagne glasses clink in the background*

One. Ed Sheeran

to the person who may assume the position of mine

i am sorry in advance that i am picky. its the plain truth.
i wont hire you unless you complete me in places i am broken.
my emotions run too high and i am sorry for that too.
ill cry during titanic
laugh at stupid jokes
scream at spiders 1cm long
but ill feel enough about you to know that i wouldn't leave for anyone else

i want hand holds. whenever. i wont mind.
ill be scared all the time. so just take my hand. show me that everything will work out.
show me that you want this too.

i want to talk to you about what i had for breakfast.
about this stupid thing this guy did during class yesterday. or how im scared im going to loose you. or about how i sleep on my side. and how i hate mustard on hotdogs.

i want to talk to you as if you were my sister, whom i've shared a room with for more than half my life. sisters share secrets no one else knows-not even mom.
sisters laugh
sisters love
sisters accept
sisters talk. about anything. thats what i want with you.

im curious. ill ask you how you got that scar above your left kneecap
or what your favorite type of pasta is.
how you like your eggs.
do you prefer black or white laces on your sneakers
how your vacation to ____ was last year...

and ill love you. though ill be scared ill love you.
ill laugh at any joke you throw at me
smile when you ask me a stupid question
ill hold your hand walking down the street
cry with you when you break down.
ill hug you from behind while standing in line for space mountain
ill fight with you when youre angry at me for spending over our budget
and when you want me to leave i wont. ill hug you until youre less broken than before.
and when i wake up to the smell of your worn cologne in the morning...ill take a deep breath

i love you already.

sincerely, yours.