I can’t keep doing this.
I can’t keep lying awake at night.
Countless hours waiting for my eyelids to grow heavy.
Hours on hours to feel every ache and pain in my body.
I can’t do this much longer.
Author Archives: Annaiken
The oral surgery blues.
It’s day three post oral surgery!
I’ve officially taken my last hydrocodone, and trying to analyze the situation before I “sober up” and start feeling pain again.
In these three days –
I’ve had a man bring me a huge stuffed Chewbacca and Star Trek: Into the darkness. Which we watched, and he found it hilarious that I slept through the entire movie (drugs), but only woke up to talk crap about curtain scenes that they messed up on.
I told him to read my blog.
The Savannah’s have taken better care of me than I ever remember being taken care of.
I mean, in my entire life.
They wake me up every 6 hours (which include 1am and 7am) to help me take my medicine. They have bought me soup, Gatorade, icecream, and not to mention PAID FOR MY SURGERY.
They’ve returned RedBox movies Chris brought over, and filled uncountable bags of ice for my face.
In my entire life I never thought I would have not only one, but two friends that put me before themselves. I couldn’t feel more blessed than I do now. I honestly have no words for how important these girls are in my life. I never would have made it through this surgery without them.
I watch from afar.
In the five months that I’ve been here, I’ve watched every one if my closest friends cry and struggle over the infatuation of a man.
I’ve held my friends tight, and poured them wine, and watched them puke into a toilet, as they sob over a man they thought cared for them.
This is why I’m single.
I find myself repeating over and over in my head.
I can’t bring myself to go through that heartache again. But at the same time, I realize how unusual it is for me to be heart broken. I’ve watched people do some crazy stuff over a relationship that had lasted as long as my period. I’ve never become so attached so quickly.
Sometimes it’s good to have a cold heart.
Sometimes it’s good to be heartless.
They aren’t Him.
I have this weird thing that I’ve been doing lately.
Whenever a man shows the slightest bit of interest in me.
I start to resent him.
I roll my eyes at every kind word, and question his every action.
It really doesn’t make much sense. I don’t do it on purpose, honestly these men care deeply for me, and I’m almost disgusted in them for doing so.
Then I realized – I resent them for not being the man that I use to love. I can’t stand the idea of anyone other than him treating me better.
I’m constantly shooting them down for no reason except that – They aren’t Him. And I hate that about me.
Quote.
“I think he broke your heart a little more that you let off.”
My struggle at the moment.
Drugs and a Foggy brain.
At last the surgery that I’ve been dreading for six months is over and done with.
Now I sit in my bed with copious bottles of pills open next to me. I sleep more than anything. I’m sure as soon as I finish writing this, my body will insist I drift back off to sleep again.
But sleep is good, it’s been quite rare for me to enjoy sleep these past few months, so I’m not bothered by this new and unusual sleeping pattern.
I don’t mind sleeping all the time, the more I sleep, the less I think, and that’s been doing me well.
Everyone gets lonely when they’re not feeling well, and I find myself craving someone that is no longer in my life.
I find myself with a man laying next to be, yet completely uninterested in him, even after he brought me adorable gifts, and is as sweet and charming as he can be.
I’m sorry.. There just isn’t anything there. But thank you. I suppose.
The Sanctuary.
The thing about moving to the very place that use to be your sanctuary, is that it becomes painfully common.
We all have the place where we run to, the place where we hide. What if it has now become your everyday life, and there is nothing extraordinary about it anymore.
Twice I have done this.
Moved to the place where I use to constantly run to.
Asheville was my sanctuary from Franklin.
And Tampa was my sanctuary from North Carolina.
Both places had dwindled into my mediocre timeline.
Becoming my everyday – instead of my hideaway.
We can help you.
HAPPY FIVE MONTHS SINGLE
Somehow the emphasis doesn’t seem sincere. Does it?
It’s been a long bumpy road these past five months. Five months of sleepless nights spent alone, wondering what went wrong five months ago, and when will things start getting easier.
In the past two weeks things have really been toppling over me.
Work has slowed down so much that it’s almost nonexistent.
I don’t even want to think of how few hours I’ve been working.
My wisdom teeth have to be pulled and I have to come up with about $1,400 for the extraction.
My car just broke down, and in the end I’m down $700, plus I’ve been without a car for an entire weekend.
My phone was stolen, and even with insurance I was $260 in the hole.
Almost two thousand dollars later I’m basking in my stress. Will things get easier?
My step mom happened to text me only hours after I ran my stressed heart out.
“We can help you.” she says to me.
I want to cry just thinking about it. Such incredible people her and my father are. I’ve never had people be there for me like they are. Always when I need them most, they’re there.
My heart is overflowing with love right now. I can’t even think about money.
Everything will be okay.
We lay there in the middle of the night.
My back turned to you.
My back is always turned to you.
Your arm rests heavily over waist.
I’m so uncomfortable but I refuse to turn over.
I refuse to face you.
Read my mind, make things better.
You’re not right for me.
They never are right for me.
Leave my Lonely Heart Be.
In a matter of 8 days I’ve had a great deal happen to me that has caused a shift in my attitude. A shift in my approach towards men and life in general.
Before I moved, my mom pointed her finger at me and said, “Six months Annie. You can’t date for six more months!”
We both laughed, she would never have actually meant it, but at this moment I am creeping up on month number 5. The idea of being with a man makes me sick.
I can’t hold, or kiss, or care for any man that wants me to.
I spend so much effort pushing away the hearts of sweet innocent men that are only hoping for a chance to change my mind.
They can’t change my mind.
No one can change my mind.
The most perfect man could knock on my door right now, and I still would turn him away, with ease and grace.
Men are constantly pursuing me, and I am constantly running.
I’ve gained the reputation of being a horrible texter. A horrible replier. A horrible communicator.
When simply enough, I just do not want to communicate with them. I don’t want to communicate with any of them.
I don’t want to date them, or go out with them, or hug them, or sit next to them. Nothing. I just want to be alone. Please.
Please just leave me alone.
You boys are only going to get hurt.
The Daily Barefoot 