Tag Archives: experiences

The One That Got Away

Nothing this week went as expected. 

 It was supposed to be a week of parties and celebration. Yet somehow, everything went south so quickly. 

Being really sick, Arguments, a terrorist attack happening right near my job, and broken promises. 

My 22nd birthday was on Wednesday. I had planned to be taken out by my boyfriend and yesterday have a party. Wednesday itself was not a bad day. I went to work, then went out with my boyfriend. Except something blew out and now he is not my boyfriend anymore. 

I have experienced plenty of breakups and fallouts in my lifetime because I didn’t just lose a boyfriend, I lost a best friend too. Someone who knew more about me more than anyone else. Someone who I knew every side of. Or at least I thought I did, I didn’t expect that he would dump me on the day of my birthday party, just two days after my birthday and on one of the worst weeks I have had in a long time. 

I keep blaming myself. I keep thinking of what I could have done different so that he’d still be mine. I feel like I could have been a better girlfriend and that I overreacted too often to many things. I keep blaming myself for everything going wrong, simply because that’s what happens when you get left behind. 

Except I did change a lot for him. I did do everything I could for him. As cliche as it sounds, everything I did in the past year I did it for him. Everything I became and everything I did was all for him. 

And now he’s gone. 

Everyone always leaves me. I’ve lost most friends in 2017 than I can count on both hands, yet losing him stung the hardest because he was everything to me. I loved him harder than I had loved anyone else, and he taught me what being in love was really about. I still love him deeply. That’s why I can’t even trash talk him, because I care too much to do such. In just a year and four months we developed into a couple that overcame so much together. Things were far from perfect the past month, but I genuinely believed we could work through it. I knew things weren’t easy for him, so I kept doing my best to bear with him and stay by his side, knowing that he needed someone there. Even when we argued the other day, I stood by believing that he and I would get through it because that was us. We were always there for each other and always made it through the worst of times. I had considered leaving before, but put it aside because in my eyes he was always worth it. 

I’m still in love with him, and I still keep blaming myself. Even with my friends kind words when I went to my birthday party last night, which he dumped me before and I spent the whole night breaking into tears wishing he was there. It was supposed to be my night where everything finally came together

People may think I’m ridiculous for posting this, but I still am trying to figure out what happened and why it had to happen this way. I still keep trying to figure out how just a week ago he was at an Open Mic supporting me and now a week later he’s gone. I’m still mourning the loss of someone who meant more to me than any person I been with, someone who was there for me during my Worst, who supported me when I was hospitalized earlier this year, who would make his way to meet up with me the nights I get out of work late, who influenced me to change all my bad habits, who spent his last dollars on me and who saved up just to take me out just the other day, who would spend every weekend with me and take me to every party, who would hold me in the midst of breakdowns and talk me up whenever I put myself down, and who never judged me, who just two weeks ago promised he’d never leave me. 

He’s gone. He’s gone and even if he said it was goodbye I’m still doing my best to face the reality of it. Some would say he’s just a guy and not worth it, but he’s meant so much more to me. Dammit, he still does. 

But he’s gone. He’s gone and with every tear I shed and every pain in my chest I wish he was here, like he always was, to hold me and comfort me. 

I believed he was the one, but he’s the one that got away…

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Inktober Day 7: All Eyes On Me 

I am back! I know October is almost over, but I have been working hard all weekend to catch up with that Inktober to-do list I made. I am determined to be caught up by the end of the week. 


Day 7: Shy 

“All Eyes On Me”

“That kid who always sat by herself at recess, who went the whole day without saying a word, and who you saw in the halls that interacted with no one, that was always me. I have always suffered from social anxiety, but I never knew there was an actual name for it until I was older. As a child, I always thought there was something wrong with me. I never liked playing with the other kids, I had nothing to say to anyone, and I never quite fit in. I was always like a puzzle piece that got mixed in with the wrong set. There were a few kids who attempted to be my friend, but I always was too shy to speak. As a result, most people bullied me as opposed to trying to get to know me because it was so much easier to call the odd one out a weirdo and retarded. Though my desire to be alone subsided as I reached my adolescent years, I still had been too socially awkward to properly communicate with anyone. My years of isolation and being mocked to a point where I could barely utter a single word without being teased caused me to develop an inferiority complex so strong that I had been unable to speak without stuttering, shaking, and reflecting on everything I would say to someone afterwards. Even if they weren’t judging me, my mind would convince me otherwise. Though I have become much more self-confident thanks to years of being involved with theatre, being in college, and the various jobs working with people that I have had, I still struggle with being more sociable and with feeling like everyone is silently judging me. I hear the voices of those that had teased me growing up for being socially awkward in my head, and I obsessively overthink everything I say and do in my head. Thanks to social anxiety, I feel like everyone is always laughing at me internally, and like everyone’s eyes were on me.”

Inktober Day 10: Ode to my First Love, The Snake

So I posted “Poison Apple” last week and said that it had a part two, well this is the part two. It’s the aftermath of my “Poison” drawing. If you haven’t seen it check it out. It’s my Day 3 submission 

“Ode to my First Love: The Snake”
“After she took the bite, what ensued was months of manipulation and deceit. He had blessed her with words no man had spoken to her in years. Words that, at the time, she wanted to here. Still, words were meaningless without action, and despite her spreading her legs for him every week, he did not seem to keep up with his promise. In fact, the more she had given her body to him, the more he drifted away from her. The more he presented her with the feeling of closeness that intimacy brings, the more she fell for him against her own wishes. She attempted to stop herself, but she lost that internal battle. She sucummbed to the effect of the poison he had filled her with that summer before and fell hard. He was not there, however, to catch her. Instead he began to limit their hangouts to only messing around and saying that he had feelings for her but she did not have what he was looking for. Still, she clung onto him, he did have a piece of her no one else would ever have after all. He knew that, in fact, he knew that she was head over heels for him. He also knew that she was nothing more than a fuck he could keep around until he got bored, so he decided to string her along for his needs. He wrapped his slithering body around her and continued to fill her with his venom to keep her attached so he wouldn’t lose his little play toy. When her demands for commitment he promised to her became to overwhelming, he decided she wasn’t worth it. He left her to give someone else the one thing he promised but never gave her, a relationship. At that time she realized not only had she been played, but that she did love him but his “feelings” were never there for her. Her first love never loved her back, and the poison he filled her with killed her internally.”

Sorry for the flood of art on WordPress, I’ve just become so obsessed with art and am improving so I want to share it as much as possible. For those interested in more of my art, follow lisawolfs_artgram for more. 

I still haven’t forgotten about my book, About Last Night. The preview will be up soon 🙂 

Inktober Day 3: Ode to My First Love, The Poisonous Apple

Yet another one a day late ;-; This whole week has been very crazy so I apologize. I hope to catch up today or tomorrow.

For more of my art for Inktober, follow my art Instagram, lisawolfs_artgram and my DeviantArt lonewolf712 

This one was done by Staples brand pens, and Gelly Roll pens by @sakuraofamerica 

 This one was rushed, but this is it:

Day 3: Poison

“Ode to my First Love: The Poisonous Apple” 

(This one is a two-parter. Part 2 will come with a future prompt.) 

“Her whole world was crashing in front of her. She felt overwhelmed to a point where just getting out of bed and living her day to day life was exhausting. When she no longer desired to be alive, he came into her life like a knight in shining armor. Her night in shining armor. He seemed as sweet as an apple, but she was hesitant to take a bite. She was vulnerable however, and he knew to say all the right things. Beautiful, smart, valuable, all the things she wanted to hear from a guy but was deprived of all her life. Her inferiority complex caused her to believe that she needed a man to tell her these thing in order to feel validated. In her eyes, he was perfect and she did not hesitate to give him a part of her that was so pure and valuable. A part of her no one else had. In her eyes, he was worthy of it. Little did she know, he was venomous. He was filled with a poison that would soon take over her body, but she was too naive and inexperienced to realize until after she took a bite. He only wanted one thing, and a virgin girl in her late teens seemed like the perfect target to fill his poison with.” 

About Last Night Update

Hello all, 
So I know some of you were excited for the release of the preview of my first book, About Last Night, today. Unfortunately, it will not be released today as there is still some things in it that need to be fixed in it before I could be satisfied enough to post it. This will not delay my story for much longer, as I do have confidence that as I continue to work on it it will be ready by next week. For now, I am not giving it a set date but the 2-chapter preview for “About Last Night” will be avaliable on Amazon very soon. Thank you all for your support. It is greatly appreciated 🙂 
For now, you can follow my page, Lisa Speaks Out, and my Instagram lisawolfs_artgram for updates. You can also follow my blog for updates as well as a look into the brief summary of About Last Night if you have not seen it already. Thank you ❤ 
Also, to my friends, if you are interested in me personally messaging you an update when it’s done, then like my status. 🙂

Regrets

Regrets.

We all have them. No matter how much you preach, “every mistake is a learning experience,” you have to admit that at least once in your life, you have done something that would make you want to jump in a time machine and stop yourself from doing if you could.

What is that regret for you?

When people look at me, they see mystery. They see a reserved girl who keeps her circle small and, while socializing with a few people every day, she rarely lets anyone in. It might make one wonder if she has any skeletons in her closet worth exposing. Some may say yes. Others may say, “no she is too sweet for that.”

Indeed, I may have a good heart that is filled with empathy and understanding for everyone good and bad, but I would be lying if I said I have never made any mistakes harmful to anyone else.

Words I want to take back that I never can. Lies that even I believed at one point. Friends I had lost due to these lies. Actions so vile I cannot even speak of them. All over someone who has no relevance in my life anymore, but did have a huge presence in it years ago. All for someone who was not worth my time and sanity. All for someone who did not care for me, but I had so desperately wanted him to that I cost myself some of the people who actually did.

All for sympathy.

Earlier in 2017, I reached an epiphany. I did not want to be that person anymore. He has been long gone out my life, I am in a much better place than I had been the past few years, I have better friends and a boyfriend, a job I love doing, and I have the ability to express myself creatively. Why did I spend my time running away from myself by creating this life for me that did not exist in the face of my close ones? No more lies, I decided.

“The truth will set you free.” This saying could not be more relevant as I finally opened up about my past. All the lies, guilt, and cruel words came pouring out my mouth to anyone affected by my actions. As I did so, the weight I carried around the past few years finally lifted off my shoulders and was carried away into the wind as I watched it drift away from me forever.

I could say that this brought me peace, and while I left that negative lifestyle behind and some had found it in their heart to forgive me, some had not.

Including myself.

The things I did were harmful and wrong, yes, and while I am not trying to justify it, there was worse things that people have done to harm others. That is what people who know of my past had said. Not to mention that I am only twenty-one and still am just at the beginning of my adulthood. Still, betrayal from a best friend is one of the worst kind, and cruel words have such an impact on someone similar to being sliced by a thousand knives, and while I had not physically harmed anyone or took anyone’s life, I still had caused people emotion pain and took advantage of their trust, and that is something I can never take back.

I have changed. I am more appreciative of those around me, I am mindful of the words I say to others, and I am much more truthful with everyone. What I had done is far in the past now and I have become someone that the dark side of me I had for years would never recognize.

Still, the guilt often sits in the back of my mind and rears its ugly head in every day. My past still haunts me to a point where it sometimes becomes a struggle to come to terms with the fact that I am not perfect, that I have done regretful things to others, and that my past does not make me a horrible person or make me any less of the good person I am within.

 

via Daily Prompt: Sympathy

Where Were You

(I haven’t been feeling good all day but I wrote a little something for 9/11)

​I remember when 9/11 happened.

I don’t remember it exactly as it was since I was younger but I remember it vividly. I was 5 going on 6 at the time. I had no idea what was going on, other than something was off that morning.

I was in first grade, and I remember my teacher talking about how something happened in Manhattan but I didn’t understand anything. Then parents started coming in and picking up their kids. During lunchtime my dad came to the cafeteria and took me home, which I found weird because he didn’t tell me he was gonna pick me up early. He brought me home and while he was on the phone I saw on the TV that the news was on every channel. I was terrified because I saw fires, explosions, and people covered in blood. As I said, I was still a child at the time so I didn’t understand how these kinds of things could happen. It was everywhere. Even outside I could hear people listening to the news about what was happening on their radios. I remember crying because I was scared, and even more scared because while my dad was home safe since at the time he worked night shifts (He wound up calling out, which was good considering that he worked near the World Trade Center at the time) my mom was stuck at work later than usual. She works at a school, and since they needed to ensure that the children got home safely first she could not come home until all the kids were picked up. It was understandable, but seeing all those people who were seriously injured on TV and the building falling down made me worry for my mom. 

My mom did eventually make it home safe, but that whole day was frightening. I was young. I didn’t understand death. I didn’t understand hatred. I didn’t understand why people do the things they do. It was the first time I was really exposed to how this world really is and how twisted some people are, how people will do things out of hatred with little care to the innocent lives of others, and for a long time after that I was scared that it would happen again. At the same time, I wanted to pretend it never happened. I would cower in fear whenever commercials came on as a reminder of what happened. I would get paranoid every time I heard a plane. I remember walking in the Times Square station with my family not too long after and seeing a memorial with pictures of people who died, including the face of one woman I saw on the news covered in blood. It baffled me as to how one second, despite being severely injured she was still on the news, but still had died not too long after. I wondered about her life, and about the lives of the others that had been killed. I didn’t know who they were, or any of their loved ones, but I do know that many people suffered losses that day. Many people saw off their husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, friends and so on just to never see them again. I may have been able to pretend it never happened, but they never will. Neither will anyone in New York City, or the United States, or anyone in the whole world. This was not the first terrifying thing to happen in the world, and it would not be the last either. 

It was there I finally learned not only about mortality, but about how cruel this world can be. 

“About Last Night” Release Date

What would you do if you could not remember the night that changed your life forever? Thomas Polanco faces this situation one night at a party during his Sophomore year of college. People are giving him looks and his loved ones are suddenly treating him differently, but no one will tell him why. As time passes and his memory slowly comes back to him, social media publicly reveals an event he doesn’t remember happening and Thomas is unsure if he can handle it.
A two-chapter preview will be avaliable on September 15th on Amazon Kindle and the full novel will be avaliable in November 2017.

Follow my Facebook page, Lisa Speaks Out, and my blog, lisaspeaksout.wordpress.com for more updates.

For My Special Someone

Who knew that something special could blossom out of a short encounter with someone who I thought did not even notice my existence?

The months leading up to when I met him were undoubtedly the worst months of my life by far. I fell into the deepest pits of depression and despair to a point where I believed there was no chance of climbing back to the top. My whole life was falling apart at the seams; between  being surrounded by loss and overwhelmed with loneliness, I could not imagine how “it would all get better in time.” Just as I near gave up at any chance of happiness, he somehow found his way into my life. He was the ray of light in the darkness my life was in early 2016.

Oh sure, a guy coming along being the thing that filled the empty void I kept feeling in my life seems trite, yet it was indeed him that pulled me out of that slump. From the moment I met him at the first social event I went to after months of isolating myself from the world, I could tell he was something special. I do not believe in love at first sight, but I do believe that when we met, just by hearing him talk and by the way he approached other people, I knew there was something delightfully unique about him. I could tell he was a beautiful person, inside and out.

Despite the vibes I got from him, I never imagined it was my life that would be affected by him. When we met, we hardly spoke and I assumed it would be the last I ever saw of him. I was used to crossing paths with attractive men and never heard from them again. This one, however, I knew was worth pursuing out that bunch. He was genuinely a sweetheart by the way he talked to his friends and the way he hugged me when I left despite the fact that we barely spoke to each other at all. I did not remember his name, nor did I want to be that creep that asked my friends who he was. Somehow, by chance, I found him and added him on Facebook, and that is where it all began.

What has ensued after that day in June was the best months of my life so far. A month of getting to know each other, and six months of loving (liking at first) and laughing until my cheeks hurt.

In July, I had a crush on him that I refused to let out despite being unable to stop thinking about how he was so protective over me despite barely knowing me and how adorable his laugh was when we first spent a few minutes together as he walked me home from work. Then, when I was sure the crush was unrequited despite the fact that he was displaying conspicuous signs of interest, he kissed me and thus changing everything between us. At first, I was skeptical to let him in as I was used and emotionally abused by every guy I had ever been involved with, but he was easily able to prove otherwise.

Once I let him in, he proved that I had made the right decision. As opposed to being some girl he wanted to fuck around with until something else came along, he began to show me off to his friends as his girl and keep me around as much as possible. It almost seemed too good to be true; a guy I liked had been proud to be called mine and genuinely enjoyed my presence. He would do anything to make sure I was safe as well by doing things such as walking me home and running to my side the moment danger arose. Despite his sense of humor, he managed to stay tactful around me for my own sake, something that no one had even cared to do for me.

What really tugged my heart strings was watching the smile across his face whenever I planted a kiss on his cheek, and whenever he talked about how happy I made him. Never in my life had I felt so special; I had the ability to make someone else actually feel happy!

It was by October, I realized I enjoyed even the littlest things about him. How focused he is on something once he starts it, the way he is able to make one of the biggest downers in the world go to bed smiling, the way he lights up the room the moment he enters it, the way he is so passionate about skateboarding, the way he respects his own family, the size of his heart, and how his smile warmed my heart. At first, I was fearsome of it happening, but I finally accepted that I was indeed in love with him.

And on birthday, he came out with it too. He loved me. I was loved by him. I did not have to question it, because he has proved it every single day since then. He is always by my side and willingly going out and doing things for me whenever I need something. He has emotionally supported me through the worst of my panic attacks and events in my life. He has been one of my few motivations when I ponder if I should keep going with life. Whenever we argue, we always find a way to pull out of it in a mature way. He has proven to me that he has eyes for me and only me, so fear of him being disloyal is never an issue for me. I could list every thing he has done for me, but I could go for paragraphs.

He is everything I have been looking for for years. He is what has been my rock through all the crap life has thrown at me, and he is the reason why I view myself in a bit more of a positive light. I could not imagine my life if I had never met him.

For that reason, I promised myself to protect him and be by his side through through it all. I want to be there to emotionally support him and help him see himself through my eyes. I want to be by his side no matter what happens and help him get through the toughest of times. I want him to know just how precious he is to me, and how he is loved by everyone even if he can’t see it.

I love you baby, happy half-anniversary.

My Lessons Learned: Part 1

INTRO

They say that getting hurt is an essential part of life and to live life with no regrets. They also say that it is always darkest before the dawn. Throughout the twenty-one years of my life I have lived so far, I have learned this to be true the hard way.

PART 1

It all started with that boy with the hazel eyes and the blonde patch of hair in his Mohawk. He was my “high school sweetheart,” my first boyfriend, and the first guy that taught me what happiness was. He stole my first kiss on the two train during the Spring of 2012 and nothing was ever the same for me again. All those years of being that ugly duckling that no guy would even consider giving the time of day quickly changed into having someone who actually wanted to be called mine and made me feel like I was actually worth something. Our first four months together was full of laughter, kisses, and memories that are now distant yet still remain implanted into bits and pieces in the back of my mind. There was also “I love you’s” exchanged, but we were sixteen and naive. What did we know about love?
As quickly as our beautiful relationship blossomed that Spring, it died out once that horrendous Summer ended. Our two-hour long phone conversations every day where we talked about everything and nothing turned into forced five minute conversations that ended in my tears. His sweet, gentle tone turned into a cold, bitter one that left me questioning if he had grown to despise me for some unknown reason. Whenever he was near, I would find myself noticing those hazel eyes of his that were once locked on me began averting elsewhere. Seeing each other every week turned into him making excuses to be away from me for three weeks until school came near and facing me would be inevitable for him. Then, just a week before my senior year began, he hit me with what I had been warned by my friends was coming but I was too in denial to accept.
He dumped me.
Oh, but he didn’t do it in person, I wasn’t worthy of that. He did so by having me travel to a play of his downtown one hot day in August after deliberately avoiding me for three weeks, hardly acknowledging my existence by having me sit on the sidelines with a depressed face as he took pictures with other women, then sending me home while I was in tears alone in the middle of the night by myself on the train. When I finally obtained the balls to confront him about this on Facebook, since he refused to answer my calls to even at least make sure I was home safe, he made it as though everything was my fault and for a long time I would believe it. I was too shy and boring, he said. He wanted a girl who he could have fun with and didn’t cling onto him all the time because she was too socially awkward to stand on her own two feet. After he was done with his side of why he was leaving me, he decided he had no time to hear what I had to say. He simply left me on seen and changed his relationship status to single, and that was that.
For him, anyway. For me, it was devastating. My first relationship came to an end. The one person that made me genuinely happy for the first time in my life left me with nothing but a broken heart. The week following the breakup was full of starving myself because my stomach ached at the sight of food, and being awake until five in the morning with tears in my eyes as I obsessively stalked his Facebook in hopes of signs of closure and that he missed me.Instead I found him writing about the importance of moving on in life, and dedicating that one Fall Out Boy song where they sing in the chorus, “I don’t blame you for being you, but you can’t blame me for hating it…”, to me. I was convinced that he truly had forgotten me and that five months together meant nothing to him. All the kisses, laughter, and I love you’s meant nothing because I was not interesting or sociable enough for him.
When senior year began, I decided to wipe away those tears and put on a bold demeanor to prove to him that I didn’t need him. Despite the fact that I was still talking in my sleep about him, and resisting the urge to both slap him in the face and beg for him back, I still held my own when facing him in the halls as we walked passed each other as if we never met. That is how it was until one day in the cafeteria, three weeks into the school year, his eyes were planted on me as I talked and laughed away with new friends I made. He then approached me, hugged me, and asked me how I was. In his face, I kept my cool. For the rest of the day, I obsessed over that one interaction wondering if it meant anything. I should not have wanted him back after he abruptly dumped me and expected me to move on, but I didn’t care. All I knew was that he made me happy once, maybe he could again and we could put the horrendous break-up behind us. Having a good heart makes you believe that everyone else does.
That false sense of hope clung onto me that whole senior year. When he and I would have brief exchanges in the hallways or at lunch, the hope would remain. When I dated someone else briefly while I still had him on my mind, and he walked around sulking at the sight of me in the arms of another, hope would remain. When he apologized for hurting me after seeing me sulk around the school for weeks contemplating suicide just around the time I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety, hope would remain. Even when he would call me boring, or when he teamed up with his ex to bully me for moving on to another guy, or when he mocked my weight to other people, I still clung onto hope. When I saw him, I saw not the guy who hurt me, but rather the boy with the hazel eyes who admired me and treated me with such respect the year before.
Then came my last day of high school, quite possibly the last day I would ever see his face again. The day where I would pour out my feelings and determine whether or not we would rekindle our old flame.
Oh silly, naive, Lisa. If only you would accept that once a flame is burned out, there is no way of reviving it. You can create a new flame, but it will not be the same. That is exactly what happened with him and I. He got me alone, and apologized to me for everything he put me through. This is the one thing I will always give him props for; giving me the closure I needed to hear to fully move on. Oh sure, I made a fool of myself by pouring out how I felt about him and how I wanted him back. I also kissed him, but the kiss was everything I needed to tell me that whatever was left between us had died out. When I kissed him, I no longer felt my heart skip a beat but rather emptiness. I no longer felt like I was locking lips with someone I loved, but rather someone who had betrayed me, and left me with little explanation. No matter how hard I tried, I could not relive the past and undo the immense hurt he caused me. He was not that sweet boy I dated a year earlier who cared about me deeply and made me feel valuable, but rather someone who dumped me on Facebook and took six months to fully grasp what he did wrong. Nothing was going to change that.
That was my closure. That was what got me to move on. There was also his confession that he was “crazy,” which made little sense to me until the next year where events took place in which I will not write of. Despite the lack of using his name, what had happened was something I will not disclose out of respect of him and everyone involved in the incident. I will say that when I learned of what happened, everything came together and the asinine reasons he gave me for leaving was merely an excuse to let me go for my own safety. He wanted to protect me from himself. That was enough to allow me to gain all the closure I needed to fully move on and accept that he and I just could not be together under certain circumstances.
I would come to learn, however, that sometimes you do not have the luxury of receiving closure from the person. Sometimes people will just do you dirty, and then leave you to pick up the pieces yourself. There is nothing you can do in that situation, but cope with the pain yourself until you can fully move on. You also will have to learn to live without closure, and instead accept that the person did what they did because they are a remorseless piece of shit. More on that in chapter 2.