Charmspeaking; the things you learn

I came across a poem today.

So Close, So Far by Adeline Whitmore

What a terrible thing it was

To have been

So close

To you

And now

Here we are

So far apart

I wonder

If it would’ve been better

To have never felt

Your love at all.


To me this struck a chord: it made me think of memories I didn’t want to think of, shards of my past I had dusted into a pile left sitting in the dust-pan waiting to be emptied into the trash. But for some reason I had been waiting- waiting for what? That I do not know.

I used to think I knew everything. I could predict everything, get everything to go just how I pleased. As a young girl, I thoroughly was convinced I could talk my way out of anything. Charmspeak, a term coined by author Rick Riordan, is what I resonated with. I wanted to be like Piper, a daughter of Aphrodite goddess of love, who could talk her way through anything and convince people of anything. Piper took the phrase I live by literally- if there is a will, there is most certainly a way.

When I grew older I realized I would never be like Piper because not only am I not a daughter of Aphrodite, I am a girl who doesn’t live in a fictional story no matter how much I wish I could. The story I live in is authored by me, it’s a wild crazy shitshow that is constantly being written as we go. I wish it had a classic fairytale ending. But I am going to assume that it doesn’t. In the very least I can hope that it ends with me happy as a cardiothoracic or neonatal surgeon living in California with two husky puppies. Maybe I am a bit ahead of myself. That’s okay.

Lately my brain has been focusing on the concept of wasted time. How you can waste so much of your life on another person. But is it truly wasting time if you learn something from them? If you learn to not make the same mistakes again that you made? Not to fall for the same sweet words over and over because they just say or do the right things you desperately want to hear?

I learned to stay guarded. I’ve learned that sometimes I care too much about the wrong people. Sometimes you just have to let people go and that can be the best thing you can do for them no matter how little you want that to be. Sometimes for better or worse people change and they just aren’t who you want around anymore. Sometimes people hide and forget to tell you things that are incredibly important and wait for you to ask when they should have said something months ago. Sometimes people just don’t know how to let you go when they really need to. I learned I can only rely on myself and people are manipulative users who will hang you out to dry no matter how good you are to them. I’ve learned what it feels like to both be cheated on and not be cheated on, but also be in a faithful relationship where it feels like cheating is happening, but you aren’t there to watch it, so you’ll never know and you cannot question it. I know what it is to put all of your trust into another person- and for them to shatter it and for you to realize they’ve given you reason not to trust them.

I’ve learned to love unconditionally the people in my life, even the ones who have screwed me over. And every single damn time, my heart aches and I wish I would just realize my fatal flaw of caring too much. I wish I was a cold-hearted bitch. It would make things easier. But my values are too strong and my moral compass too magnetic.

I used to live with my brain as the guide, but I’ve slowly transitioned into living following my heart and by my feelings. This is incredibly stupid sometimes, but it is also exhilarating. But it leaves you in heartbreak and an emotional rollercoaster. Because you care when things go wrong in other people’s lives. Because there was a time when you were alone and felt like there was no one- and you told yourself nobody would ever feel that way again because you would stick by them.

To the ones that have hurt me, I’ve forgiven you. Because that’s who I am and that’s what I do. I forgive and forget and am constantly taken advantage of. Yet, for the life of me I don’t know why I stick around. I know I deserve better. I know what it is like to feel loved and cared for. And even if just as a friend, I still deserve to feel that way after you have made me feel worthless. Because I’m the girl that’s “too good for you” people say. I’m the girl who pours her soul into whatever she does because I’m fucking passionate about what I think and what I have to say.

Nothing is forcing you to listen to me as I smash through every expectation people had for me and I surpass those to prove them wrong, all the ones who doubted me or bullied me. Nothing is forcing you to stick around till the end of my story. Right now, it’s usually about the time where I’m clutching onto strings that should’ve been severed. Because those who have hurt me, if you cared well you’d do something. But you and I we’re better just coexisting from a distance it seems. Sometimes I wonder if it were better if we never met, to have never loved you at all. But this cycle, it’s not the first and last time I’m going to feel this way.

Screw being hot and the girl all the guys want to sleep with these days. I’m content with being intelligent and successful and focused on bigger and better things than I can even imagine tangibly right now. I am the one who matters in this story and I’m done wasting words and paper writing about the peoples of the past’s haunting memories that have floated into my reality.

Those pages are floating down the river for now.

As a wise English teacher once told me:

You must let the wind underneath your wings and let the road rise to meet your feet.

Sometimes I miss people from my past. But the people who they were, not the people they are now. But time, it exists for a reason and well, there’s no going back now.





Salmon, cucumber, avocado.

The sushi stares back at me eagerly awaiting to be chosen out of the plastic takeout container. Approximately five minutes ago, I slid on my ankle-high, knit snow boots, trudged outside in the frigid air without a coat, and went on a treasure hunt to find the delivery man. Five minutes before I ended up freezing due to my poor judgement, a number lit up on my phone. Glencoe, IL it read underneath the string of numbers. The sushi guy. Another stranger I’d encounter for a second and never to see again. What do they know about me? Well for starters they have my phone number. They know I clock in at about roughly five-foot-something, and I have silky long black hair (that is, if you classify my chocolate locks as something much prettier sounding than they actually are). You see approximately a little over 27 hours ago, I was dumped. And not in a classic, oh I cheated on you, or I feel too disconnected, or I just can’t do this anymore. I was dumped for being too incredible, for being someone he thought he couldn’t make happy. You see quite frankly this was a shame for both of us, as subconsciously we needed each other, but neither of us wanted to hold on to that. Thus, we awkwardly now coexist until we reconcile and our paths cross again because honestly, once someone walks away when are they truly gone forever? Everyone’s paths are intertwined in ways that we will never ever realize or know. You see, my now ex, who we’ll call E, and the delivery man are similar in a way that, both of them started off knowing the same things about me. Merely on a hunch, E asked me for my phone number. From there things progressed quickly and soon we both felt ourselves thrown into a relationship that neither of us had ever really experienced before. We challenged each other in ways that were beyond what had happened in the past, and for each of us, the other was a steep learning curve. Prior to E, there was S. My relationship with S was good while it lasted and I don’t regret any of it except for how it ended despite it being slightly toxic in ways I should’ve realized. But first loves are always somewhat toxic, and a more accurate statement has never been made other than love makes you blind. With both E and S, the endings were sad, and I would arguably say slightly tragic. Now the million dollar question: was I in love? In either relationship? Well that depends. I thought I was in love, but was I? With S, I don’t know if I truly ever was. I wanted to be, so badly to the point where I think I convinced myself I was. But how much would I have sacrificed? What does being in love honestly mean? I was better off without him- looking back we came from different places, different paths and incompatible life goals. He of course was a compassionate person, but unexpressive in his thoughts and feelings. E was similar, but there was something more profound with him. S I felt by the end I knew everything, but he never wanted to admit when he felt certain things. S never made me a priority. Which is why the 72 hours after E dumped me, when he showed up and stood there slightly awkwardly, admitting he was here to beg me back, I was thoroughly confused. Three days earlier, E had said it wasn’t right for us. Two days earlier I sat on my floor eating sushi comparing my ex-boyfriends to an interaction with a sushi delivery man. One day earlier I cried in my journalism class because I couldn’t grasp how being too good could cause you to lose someone to irrational reason. Today I sit here with my head going in circles. Does giving second chances promote enabling the playing with my heart? An organ composed of delicate tissues, nestled in a forest of capillaries, veins, and arteries, it’s shielded by the ribs of the thoracic cavity. Yet it can be shattered with the words of another easily within seconds. E has said that he trusts everybody from the start. I’m the opposite. Trust is something to be gained, not given. But how would things change if trust was instant and unfaltering? E sits on my floor, saying nothing with his lips but his sparkling clover colored eyes speaking everything. My heart floods and begs my brain to surrender. But I have to keep my head above water, it can’t be pulled under into the currents of my heart. E is the kind of guy who will be there through anything, no matter what, no matter the hour. He will always be on the other end of the phone. Even when he dumped me, he still asked if I was doing okay. He’s the kind of guy you wish you could get angry at but you can’t because he’s too damn good to you. So that leads me back to where I am now. Curled up on my baby pink and white down comforter, E on my carpet staring up at me wanting an answer that I don’t know I can give. So what am I supposed to do? That is something the future knows, and right now, I have no clue.