Pieces of Peace: My Anxiety is not Romantic



My anxiety is not romantic. My anxiety is not a fetish you can bring into the bedroom.  Someone told you that someone with anxiety is a great lover.  You believe because of my constant need of validation that everything will be okay; I will pour my energy into our relationship.  You are sadly mistaken because I have no energy left to give.

It is not cute when I wake up in the morning. My alarm goes off and I hit snooze. What I do is this; I lay there on the bed feeling this heavy weight on my body.  I try to find the reason why until I’ve come up with a dozen conclusions on why I should get up. But instead, I lay there for an extra ten minutes because I am exhausted.

There are days I jolt up and my heart is racing. I have been thinking about the same problem from the night before and I hate myself that I haven’t found a solution. And even if I did, I probably woke up thinking my solution would just add to the problem. There are days I wake up crying because I have no idea what to do.

There are days I’d wake up three in the morning thinking about the context of a day old conversation.  Or worry about how I may not have enough money in my account until my head conjures up worse case scenarios. Until I’d start to sweat, my stomach churning, and my heart trying to beat out of my chest. There are nights I feel like the Tell Tale Heart because I hear a heartbeat in the room deafening me.

Though I should’ve just went back to sleep rather than keep myself up all night.  If I try to fall asleep all I do is fidget, toss, and turn. I’d think about every problem in my life, from point A to point Z. Only to find it coming back to me.  If it wasn’t for me I wouldn’t have anxiety. Yes, I know it does not make any sense.

Will you still find my anxiety cute when I get an anxiety attack? It feels like I’m choking on air, my heart is trying to beat out of my chest, and everything is hazy. Would you still find it cute when I walk through a crowd trying to steady my breathing? Or would you feel like you are saving me? It would be nice to have a shoulder to lean on. Someone to talk to about my frequent bursts of irrationality rather than hide it and pretend I am okay.

Darling, I need a friend, not a knight or a soldier. Better yet tell me that I should seek help. I do not want you to say that you want to fix me because I am not broken. I am sick, not a jigsaw puzzle.

So please, my anxiety is not a character trait. It is an illness. I need a doctor, not a lover. I am not broken.


October Rains


I asked for your name
I wish I never did
Because I was speaking in tongues
With goosebumps crawling on my neck
And you hadn’t touched me yet

I asked for your number
That was my second mistake
For a year I spoke in mediocre abbreviations
While I screamed metaphors to my pillow
I’m dramatically poetic, as if you’ll ever know
You only hear me when I’m wryly sarcastic

You had me writing letters
You had me making dedications
Ask anyone, I never show that much affection
I should’ve left but you had me hooked
And all it took was one conversation

I convinced myself you weren’t real
Or I’m denying every emotion I feel
You make me mad, you left me depressed
Hung up, hungover, still holding on to you
But I forgive you with every chance you get

It takes you three seconds
To make me laugh
You were the only shoulder
That could carry my burden
The only one who can make me smile
After crying my heart out

Now you’re a past tense in my storyline
A regret, a “what if” and another page torn
I shouldn’t have asked your name
I shouldn’t have gotten your number
It’s my fault and I’m still attached

Cut me off
So I can learn to let go

You Were Just An Idea


Dear the Idea I Made,


You’re not real, you never were. Okay you are real; you are human however I dehumanized you when I wrote you in way only a hopeless romantic can write. I’ve read somewhere that it’s treacherous to think of a person more than a person. It’s not flattering or that you love them enough to see them more than what they see themselves, it’s sad. Why create an idea of who they are when they already have their own identity?


I forgot that. I saw through your flaws, I saw through everything you did and said wrong. I disagreed but why did I think that it’s love when I accept it? I shouldn’t have because I knew what was wrong and I did nothing but saw it as a sign of deeper affection towards you. I was delusional not in love.


My friends told me I was in love, my parents asked me if I was in love and I convinced myself I was. Heck I believed it. I believed in everything I wrote about you. I believed that the universe mocks me when it’s giving me signs that we’re not meant to be. I believed it was because it’s not our time to meet or have a relationship. I was in the mind of a hopeless romantic not a mind of a realist.


I made you my manic pixie dream boy. I made you paper to make the analogy better. I made you paper because my ideas of you were written and that was all I noticed. Like I said I knew your faults, I said faults and this time I don’t consider them imperfections. Because there is nothing imperfect about you, you are flawed as any other human being but you have your wrongs.


Your actions, your words I should’ve heard and seen them not ignored them. I ignored every single one of them. I’ve made excuses for your actions and not only to myself but to everyone around me. I regret them now, my defensive arguments and how I justified your actions as if I wanted to glorify my idea of you. Or the fact I accept you, flaws, and all. I didn’t accept you, I was ignorant of you.


I could say I didn’t know you very well but then that would be a lie because I know you. I sometimes think I know you better than you know yourself because I saw through you. I know deep inside you’re afraid of leaving your comfort zone. I know the secrets you keep behind your cocky exterior. I know the meaning behind every snarky comment you say because all in all you’re sad.


I also know you mean the opposite of half the things you say. You say you don’t want any drama, but I see you purposely balling your hands into fists and raising your voice. I see you purposely wanting an audience when you scream. I know anger; I’ve seen true anger issues and you my friend shouldn’t act as if you have one. You live for the attention despite saying you don’t. You try to act humble but you broadcast to the world how great you are.


Maybe I’m mad but you can’t blame me. You shut me out; you’re cutting me out of your life. This isn’t the first time either and it’s the same as the last time. We talk endlessly and then suddenly you stop talking to me. You can’t blame me for being bitter because all I’m asking is for a friend. A friend that I had for two years, a friend who was with me for the past few months and a friend who says he doesn’t cut people out of his life. But you’re cutting me.


I remembered that you said you missed me. I remembered that you said you’re happy I’m in your life. But you’re cutting me out of it. Not pushing, cutting. Because to push someone from away from your life takes effort. Cutting someone out of it is simple; you make it seem they don’t matter and break their heart.


Thank you. Thank you for making this easier. I thought I’d spend the next few months crying over you. But instead I see you, I finally see you for who you are.


You are human, you have flaws and you can be wrong. But if I start defending your actions and making excuses for you then there’s something wrong with me.

My Essay i wrote in my Junior Year about Essays

During my junior year we had an assignment to write an essay about essays. Clever isn’t it? Well the idea not talking about my essay but the idea of writing an essay about essays. Okay that was too redundant.

I took long writing it because I didn’t understand what exactly I was writing, my first draft was a little too boring and the second draft made me want to rip anything in sight. But as they say third is the charm in my case it wasn’t because I exceeded a page too long, 2 pages was the maximum. So fourth was the charmer but I don’t know if it is good though I did get a good grade out of it. I decided to relate the forms of writing such as poems, stories and essays to designing clothes, I love fashion and I put it together with writing. Not that impressive but I got tired and I thought it was good enough, not just enough but good.

Words can be sewn together in different ways it could be like a ribbon tied with metaphors and rhymes making it a poem. It can be long with different patterns of stitching putting together a few loose ends then finally a grand finish making a beautiful story. An essay however is different it is not limited or as short as a poem and it does not exceed a hundred pages just to tell a simple story. It is not only entertaining to man.

“Out of his musings, his observations, his involvement with practically everything that surrounds him and to a certain extent, even with the verities beyond his easy grasp, evolves the essay, an attempt to portray and delineate and interpret life or its multifarious segments.” in the essay called “The Essay.” the writers tells about what is an essayist and what an essayist to write in his essay.

A writer is like a seamstress with delicate hands holding a pin and needle creating patterns, putting together different textures and colors of fabric to create a dress. An essayist is not limited when it comes to his creative process when writing an essay. He does not feel confided in his own work afraid to write his ideas and present them in any manner of his choosing. The essayist is fearless and open minded with his writings to persuade, to inspire and to educate its readers. Different essays have different motives for the readers to understand and make them think. If a poet gives you a soft tender touch in the heart, a story teller entertains your imagination and an essayist can do both.

However an essay can make people think, why do most prefer a long story than something as short as an essay can be? Why do other people prefer to read a love poem rather than a persuasive essay that can make them think? Why would other prefer to go through pages and pages and be caught in a web of plotlines? An essay is not condemned to any meter or rhyming scheme and is less cryptic as a poem can be yet others would prefer to indulge themselves in those very few lines. There are those who would cry their eyes red reading a whole book in one setting when an essay is just a few pages short.

An essay is not subjective to just love but the writer’s mood, observations and ideas or ramblings. People would prefer something that would keep them at ease when they read, the want entertainment something that can make them laugh and cry and relate to. An essay is either formal or informal, clearing out ideas or stating an idea. It can be funny and tearful but most would want a story behind it not just an idea of someone else. If an essay can make you think then why do not many read an essay to make them ponder and have their mind set open rather than limited? There is an answer and it is because most would want a story behind the lines rather than an idea.

Yet that is what makes an essay beautiful, it’s an idea or ideas that makes the brain ponder on as the eyes linger to every single word written on the simple piece of paper. It is not just a simple piece of literature to present its ideas to you; it gives you an idea and makes you re-think your own ideas making you a little more open minded. It does not aim to please its audience but to make its audience think and give them their ideas and how the can present in a creative manner to persuade them to agree to its ideas or at least consider them.

It’s different, the way a person writes an essay is different because an essayist can write whatever his mind can create and whatever mood suits him. It’s different because it does not let you get caught in a web of different storylines and a twisted plot and it simply does not please to entertain you. An essay is not as short and as heartwarming as poem can be and it is not as entertaining as a novel. However an essay is mind grabbing, inspiring and you can learn from complex ideas made simple.