woodthrushcalling:

they passed out red white blue ribbons at the memorial service and
my old history teacher thanks me for coming and I don’t really know how to
respond, and my friend, she can’t stop crying especially when that girl comes up and chokes during her speech with that one frigid spanish teacher, who cautiously reaches out to touch her back, I mean, these things are ripe with emotion, no wonder my brother never shows up to them, even when his best friends died in that crash two months ago

I’m back here again, the high school football field, except this time, not alone, 
here, with some of my oldest friends, here, with that boy who threw a bottle at my face and laughed, here, with that boy who made fun of my foreign name, but I guess we are here because we care and we are sad and it feels weird to have something in common with them but that’s high school, I guess

I mostly can’t believe we are all here and our high school principal is now gone,
it is weird, one minute he’s patting your head and you are thinking he is one of
those things like this building and this field, always going to be there, and the next, well, after everything, it’s been a rough year and no one is immune to this,
not the young or the old

I leave early because I have grown up as transparent as a lion’s roar and I know
this is no place for me to cry, where acquaintances reach out to me like 
long lost friends and my awkward self fills the gap with trivial questions, I need
to leave and I pass the parking lot where flowers line and fill the parking space that is marked “Reserved for Principal only” and grimace as a reporter flips her hair and smiles for the camera
 

Five years ago, a difficult decision was made. There have been hard days with seemingly hopeless futures on the horizon and no end in sight. There have been days of drifting through life, not caring about what could happen. There have been days filled with darkness as I attempt to drown in the warmth of the bath water. There have been days spent curled up in bed, wondering if any of it mattered. There have been days full of contemplation, temptation building up.

Five years ago, I had simple solutions to these days. 

Five years later, I am growing. I am continuously learning how to weather these storms, and it has been a tumultuous journey - but my god look at how much can change. I have so much to be grateful for, and I truly am comfortable and happy in my own skin.

Five years ago, I made my last cut. I haven’t looked back since. Thank you, past Christina, for being brave and making a decision that has been incredibly rewarding.

(via psych-facts)

(via concernedmother)