Expendable

It’s ridiculous how much I love my boyfriend, Bobby. And though it goes against everything I believe in, he is my happiness, my joy, my smile, my laughter, my best friend, the love of my life, and just my everything. He makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. But then again, he could make me extremely miserable. Let me explain.
I’ve had a rough go of it. My life has never been easy. One of the things I’ve had to endure is people walking so easily out of my life. I’m used to being the expendable person in everybody’s life, so now I expect it from everyone that crosses my path.
The first time Bobby told me he loved me, I immediately burst into tears and shook my head violently while repeating the words, “No! No you don’t!” I had so many emotions bouncing around in my brain: excitement, anger, happiness, frustration, but the most overwhelming was the feeling of fear. I drove myself insane crowding my mind with thoughts of him leaving my life already. I just don’t expect much out of anyone anymore. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not just anyone. He’s one in [insert world population here]. But I didn’t want to allow myself be loved by the most amazing guy in the world to me only to feel stupid in the end should he decide to leave. My whole world would come crashing down and I’d only have myself to blame.
The best feeling in the world is being loved by Bobby. He looks at me like I’m the best thing in the entire world. I always feel him smiling in the middle of a kiss like he’s never been happier doing anything else. He turns the music up in his truck and lightly touches my chin as he sings all of his favorite country songs to me. He holds my hand everywhere we go like he’s actually proud that I’m his girl. When he holds me, he never wants to let me go; every time I try to get up, he pulls me back and holds me tighter. He texts me every morning when he gets to work and calls me every night before he goes to sleep.  He notices the tiniest things like me switching the side of the part in my hair. He always gets excited when he talks about each new step he wants to take with me: moving in together, getting married, having children, growing old together. He’s my superman. I can call him at any time for any reason and he’ll rush to my house to comfort me with no questions asked. Goodness, I feel like I’m the luckiest girl to ever walk this earth. Being loved by Bobby is heaven.
Still, I’m in a battle with my own mind. I always ask myself how and why I’m so lucky. Then my mind automatically goes to a dark place where I start realizing that Bobby is my everything. And though he doesn’t want to ever leave me, if something ever happens that I lose him, I’ll lose everything. I can go from being incredibly happy one second to drowning in misery the next and that… THAT is what terrifies me the most. Losing everything. My everything. And I’ll go back to the feeling of February 27th when I tried to end my pain. But I handed him the gun. He can pull the trigger whenever he wants, but I gave him that control. Fuck…

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Joy Deceases

crying-girl-sad-alone-lonely-cute

I wish my mind didn’t work the way that it does. Of course, sometimes it can be a good thing: hoping for absolutely nothing and awaiting the worst so I won’t have the feeling of stupidity above all my disappointment. But, on the other hand, it can be a horrible thing; horrible and unmanageable once it becomes a routine every time I begin to feel even the slightest bit of happiness. Because every time I have something great in my life, I automatically expect it to turn out negatively. No matter how seemingly perfect something is, I question it.

“Why?”
Then “why?” turns into, “how?”
And “how?” turns into, “for how long?”

As if every bit of happiness I acquire is absolutely fated to have an expiration date.

Now, I can sit here all day until I’m blue in the face and tell stories about how many people have walked out of my life or screwed me over when they made [empty] promises against it. I can try to explain the brokenness I’ve felt over circumstances and situations that pushed me so much closer to the edge than I already was. I can go on and on forever about why I feel like my entire life has been a huge snowball effect of bullshit, deceit, and some more bullshit, but this isn’t the blame game. Ultimately, it comes down to me realizing that no one else’s mistakes should have the ability to influence my decision on how I’m going to feel about something.

But how can I just completely disregard the damage everyone else has left? How can I sit back, smile, and pretend that I’m not expecting the same thing to happen over and over again? I’ve forgiven every single person, but I’ve never forgotten, nor will I ever forget, how each one made me feel. And I think that’s what screwed me up the most.

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Smile

Smiles are crazy. They can have multiple uses. 
You can smile at people walking by in public. You can smile when you read a funny text. You can smile sarcastically during an argument when something completely idiotic was said. You can smile just because you’re happy. You can smile to hide other emotions. 
It’s very easy to smile, but it’s hard to make it mean something sometimes. That’s the thing, though, sometimes you might not know why someone is smiling. It can be out of pure happiness, sarcasm, or just a front to cover up a broken soul. The funny thing is, it’s hard to tell. 
So smile. Smile at anyone you can anytime you get the chance. Smile at the girl who’s hiding suicidal thoughts behind a smile that you wouldn’t have ever been able to tell was fake. Smile at the woman casually buying groceries for her family that’s falling apart behind closed doors. Smile at the homeless man who’s smiling at you, waiting for even the slightest bit of hope found within the simple smile of another human being. Smile at the seemingly happy man, struggling to provide for his family. Smile, and mean it. Because you never know what’s behind anyone else’s smile but your own.

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