Run For Me?

Oh, what I would give to run again.

I wonder, had I realized then

(Then, as a younger person)

That I would one day not be able to run…

Would I have done it differently?

Would I have gone quicker, longer, farther, harder, freer?

Do you go quicker, longer, farther, harder, freer?

Because I go slowly. I ache as I walk. If I were to run, I would cry as I ran. Can you run for me? Can you satisfy this burning dullness in the pit of my inner athlete by running for me?

I can’t run. Sometimes it feels like I can’t live. Sometimes I need to write this down in the middle of the night because all I want to do is run. Sometimes all I want is for someone to figure out the truth of why I can’t run and to fix me. Cure me. Save me.

Someone. Do it. I can’t run until you do. Can you take extra footsteps for me? Extra footfalls, heavy breaths, aching ribs, rippling muscles, sweaty palms, frizzy hair. Make up for my lack.

I’ll watch you run. I’ll sit here in a chair and track you with my eyes as you run by me, around me in circles, on top of me, because I can’t run for myself and I’m nothing to you. Nothing. Just a nothing who can’t run.

Make me run.

Ella.

Song quote:

Run until you feel your lungs bleeding. -Run, Hozier

 

The Sleepless Anecdote

One might think there’s something romantic about a late night. The dim lights, the silent house, the rustle of the wind outside.

There isn’t. I couldn’t sleep. I got into bed at 10:30 and fell asleep at 4:30. That’s six hours of non-romance. It was frustrating. The crazy thing was, my brain was totally awake and processing the implications of the situation while also enjoying the game of keeping me awake.

I finished reading The Bell Jar. I watched three episodes of Friends. I meditated. I ate cereal. I took everything off my bed and put it all back. I solved a math question.

I did everything but sleep. My body is like “you suck” and my brain is like “yay I won!” and I’m like dead.

What do you do when you can’t sleep?

Insomnia for the win,

Ella

Song Quote:

Even when you’re sleeping, keep your eye-eyes open. -Eyes Open, Taylor Swift

P.s. Happy second birthday “Sick and Sick of It”!!! Rather than creating a virtual cake with candles, you’re each invited to just write a wish in the comments below. I think my wish is obvious at this point.

The Gas Station Anecdote

Last week I took the car to get cleaned and sat on a nearby chair reading a book. At first I didn’t understand why everyone was giving me these weird looks, and then I realized I’m a girl sitting in a gas station reading Ernest Hemingway. Now I get it.

As supremely uncomfortable as I was, I buried my nose in my book and didn’t look up until it was time to give the tip. Which I first dropped on the floor. Because I’m just cool like that. I also started driving without popping the right mirror back in place. Because I’m cool like that. I then awkwardly leaned over the right seat and flailed my phalanges at it while the man waited next to me. But only because I’m cool like that.

Good story.

Anecdotally,

Ella

Have you had a similar experience? Or are you just generally cool like I am? Tell me in the comments below!

Song Quote:

I wish that I could be like the cool kids. –Cool Kids, Echosmith

~~~

“The Anecdotes” is a series of fairly mundane life occurrences documented by Ella. They are a result of a busy schedule that has led to an upsetting lull in posting. Ella hopes The Anecdotes will amuse you as they amuse her and that you will join her in recognizing the reality of every situation she is in. She will now stop talking in third person because she’s pretty sure she’s insane. Read the full introduction here.

The Anecdotes – An Introduction 

“The Anecdotes” is a series of fairly mundane life occurrences documented by Ella. They are a result of a busy schedule that has led to an upsetting lull in posting. Ella hopes The Anecdotes will amuse you as they amuse her and that you will join her in recognizing the reality of every situation she is in. She will now stop talking in third person because she’s pretty sure she’s insane.

The Anecdotes will be posted sporadically and irresponsibly, but that is their beauty. Like life, they are unexpected and occasionally charming. Though a break from the regular writing style on here, they are nonetheless as sufficient and as satisfying as the usual. And way more causal.

Share the love.

Ella

(Do not fret and do not frown, both regular posts and Anecdotal posts will contain the trademark song quotes. I would never let you down like that.)

Song Quote:

We like you, this is a game already won, the time has come, stop trying. -Stop Trying, Sia

 

Are you excited to read Anecdotes?! Let me know in the comments below!

Change My World

There’s a lot that I don’t know. I can’t even write a complete list for you because I wouldn’t know what to put on it. But throughout my entire life there have been a few things that I’ve always known, and one of them is writing. I will always have writing.

In the past half a year I’ve written more than I’ve ever written before (even though this blog doesn’t necessarily showcase it. Sorry about that), and it’s been so good for me. I have another world, separate from the real one, which lives inside of me. Worlds are created all the time, practically every time I read a book, watch a movie or binge watch a TV show. The difference is that this world is something I invented, the people living in it are characters I dreamt up, and the meaning of it is the culmination of many, many, inner conversations and turmoil.

The cool thing about my world is that I have writing. You see, I’m in the process of turning this inner world into a world accessible to other people by writing it. I’ve done this for nearly two years with my thoughts and feelings on this blog (this is where we all freak out and scream over the fact that I’ve been writing on here for two years. I mean, sheesh, I’ve had my driver’s license for a year! Remember that saga? I remember).

screaming-profile

I googled “freak out and scream” and of all the amusing photos, this one won

This is different though. This isn’t me sharing the thoughts I have on my life and my body and my situation. This is me sharing a story. A story I’m building, crafting, imagining, and loving. I really love it.

It’s cool to think that maybe someday, you will all read my book. Like, in an actual physical copy, with my name embossed on the front and the blurb about the author including this very blog. You’re all going to be famous!

I’ve had ideas for novels before but they were never real. This one is real. This one is serious. This one is actually happening.

On the list of things that I don’t know goes my plans for next year. I have __ months of high school left (I can’t bring myself to count). I don’t know what I’ll be doing, because stinking fibro cancels out all of my options. But I’ll always have writing. Who knows, maybe this is fate stepping in and making sure I won’t be able to move on to the next natural step so that I can sit down and write this book.

Will it change the world? Probably not.

Will it change mine? Probably.

Yours,

Ella

Song Quote:

I put my faith in me. –Long Shot, Newton Faulkner

A Valentine’s Day Story

img-thing

Her laugh broke the silence. “Was that an echo?” she thought to herself as her embarrassing bark came to a sharp end. “Is my home really so empty?”

Truthfully, it was. Not only did it lack the pink, red and naked baby decorations that adorned every surface today, it was also devoid of humans beside her. The silence was just a tangible portrayal of her loneliness, bone deep and soul solid.

She had used to think the sky was blue; she now knew it was only painted blue. Remembering she had believed differently reminded her of her past, though. It was the past that had made her laugh.

This loneliness was all her doing. After all, it was she who had moved away. It was she who had made them all say good-bye. And it was she who had, at the last minute, requested a rain check on her date tonight. Tonight, the 14th.

The only time loyalty came to play in her life was when it came to her MO: running away.

“But,” she thought as she unwrapped a chocolate from the gold box, “I still like this more than what was before. I’m happier now.”

Because now, she didn’t have to deal with the pain of others or how they felt about her. Now, she was free. Plopping down onto her wide couch all by her lonesome, she popped another chocolate into her mouth and reached for the remote. Because now, now one knew her secret.

It had been foolish of her to accept a date request for tonight. She had her own tradition to uphold. Every year, on the 14th of the 2nd, she reveled in her successful cover-up. Today being the 10 year anniversary, she could finally be sure the truth would never, ever see light. Let’s just say, there was a body that would stay buried.

This loneliness really was all her doing.

Flicking through the channels, she laughed loudly to herself once more.

 

FIN

 

I had way too much fun writing this. 

Love,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

So what became of loving man and what became of you? -Handshake, Two Door Cinema Club

I’m Going Home

 

antique-art-curtains-home-photo-Favim.com-136368

Not my window, but a dreamy window indeed

 

I can totally do this.

The past few days have been filled with pain and the past few nights have been filled with consciousness. I am tired and tired of studying. I am sick and suffering, but I can do this.

Two tests left. My window is open to let the cold, crisp air in and onto my face, and every now and then I remember to breathe. I have a playlist of Coldplay, Maroon 5 and Beyoncé to keep me from getting too bored of my material, and a yellow highlighter that matches my dried mango (god’s gift to man).

A classic study set-up.

Not only am I motivated and uplifted by the light I can glimpse at the end of the tunnel, but I now have something to look forward to: I’m going home. I moved away from my hometown when I was 7, and in many ways where I live now is a larger part of my identity. It’s where my family is, where most of my friends are, my school, and my past ten years of life. This culture now feels as much an inseparable part of my identity as the culture of my early childhood.

But still, the thought of going back for a visit makes the words “I’m going home!” shout in my mind, bang around and jump up and down (primarily as I try to study). For once I have something to look forward to, and by golly, is it uplifting.

I just feel like I can do this, I can make it through these tests and then go home. The first time I went back to visit was many years after we moved away, and at the sight of my neighborhood I began to cry in the back of the cab. Those tears were because I missed it all and I wished we’d never moved. The tears I’m sure will come this time will not be the same. I’m no longer a 7-year-old girl. In a few months time I will turn 18 and I will need to accept that the fibromyalgia will become a part of my adult life too.

This time I will cry because I really need a break from the reality of my life that is so often sad and frustrating.

This time I will cry tears of joy, because despite it all I love the person I have become and I know I would not be the same if we had never moved away.

This time I will cry, and then leave the tears aside and focus on being where I am. The Dalai Lama said that there are only two days that do not exist: yesterday and tomorrow. In my life, my yesterdays always carry over to my todays (in the form of a headache) and I can’t help but worry about all of my tomorrows.

This time I will cry.

Yours,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

Millions of miles from home in the swirling, swimming on, when I’m rolling with the thunder, but bleed from thorns, leave a light, leave a light on. –Midnight, Coldplay

 

Stay tuned for part 2! I plan to write all about my trip.

Part 1: I’m Going Home

Part 2: I’m Home!