130 Days. And You Can Still Smile.

I'm proud of you.
I really am.
As many times as I scream at you. Yelling you're not good enough. Reminding yourself how stupid you are and nothing is good to come.
I'm proud.
I'm proud because I never thought you could do it again. Once I caved I thought it was all over from here. Might as well not try.
I didn't think I was strong enough.
But it's been 130 days since I last hurt myself and I'm excited every time I can really smile.
I'm kept on edge at times but I know my friends won't let me fall again. I know if they knew when I was down they would be there, even if I don't give them a chance to see when I'm weak. I know how vulnerable people are when they show you weakness, and I take pride that people trust me enough to let me in. It's just gonna take me a while longer to be able to do it myself.
But for now. I'm happy. I'm proud.
And now I can walk around and wear my true smile.
Because some days that smile can make others truly smile. 

One Day

Thank you.
I know you probably don't remember me but we do see each other everyday. I guess you might know who I am but you might not remember that day you changed my thoughts. You lit a fire in the bottom of a hopeless kids heart.
And I thank you.
That one day when I got to class just a little too early and I caught myself again looking closely at some art hanging on the wall, and you caught me there once again because I swear I see you at least once a day. As I softly run my finger tips against intricate structures and wonder what I someday will make, then thats when you spoke to me. Simple.
" One day, that's gonna be your work up there."
Not knowing how to respond, you walked away quickly as if you wanted no response because I would have simply said "I wish." More encouragement from the art building janitor than any teacher has ever given me. And some nights, I have enough heart to believe her. Maybe there is hope in this hopeless kids heart. 

Okay...So scratch my last post.

There is about 13 minuets left of this Valentines Day.
And what did I do. Sit at home, down a six pack, and try to forget that I've never really had a true valentine. There were days when I was young and the innocence of two kids holding hands and exchanging overly cheesy Halmark cards was encouraged, but I never truly called it love.
I never truly had the feeling of what to do when I was in love. But today I feel like I could have shown how my heart feels. Overwhelming feelings of me wanting to hide flowers around your room just so I can imagine the smile on your face when you find them.
Halmark cards, not for you darling. For you I would make a masterpiece, fold it in half, write nothing but Love on the front and hope it makes your heart feel the way Mine does when you look me in the eyes. I'd do nothing but hope no matter what happens to me you could hold that masterpiece close to your heart and never let go.
I wish that you never let go.
With three minuets left in this day that I say I hate, but it's because I've never been given the chance to love.

Valentines

knlnbjk

Behind Closed Doors

Sometimes I don't understand how I can hate my hometown so much.
 I do feel regret sometimes for not visiting more. It actually makes me feel like a complete ass.

But whenever I go to that town I remember every reason I left it in the first place.
THE PEOPLE
It's not like everyone there is the same. This by no means goes to everyone, but is there something in the water that makes everything you say rude?
It's hard to travel back to a place where people called me fag more than my name.
I hate that word.
People look at me and hate me.
Judged solely on appearance and never given a chance for eighteen years.

Thank you.
Thank you for making me realize I didn't belong here. Without you I wouldn't have found Northern and I would be stuck in that pathetic excuse of a town.
THE PAST
I guess my past has a lot to do with people, but it still is a totally different concept.
Sitting in my room is a very uncomforting feeling.
What happened behind these closed doors formed lifestyle I wish to forget.
A life of hatred. Hate so deep that it's gonna take a lifetime to heal.
Back when everyday was a bad day. A big hopeless trap.
When cuts, bruises, and risk were daily relief from everything.
I guess I felt like I was getting what I deserved, even if it was from myself.
That if people always had a problem with me then I must broken.
And there was no way to fix me.
People forced me to believe things that were never true. Things about myself.
Turning my own thoughts against me. Forming the perfect outcast. Telling me where I belonged.
Giving me no choice.
Behind these closed doors I changed.

And I hope one day, mom, you'll realize why I left.
I wasn't running away. I was protecting your baby.
That town is dead to me because if I was still there I would be dead to it.