'You had my heart in your hand, and you played it to the beat...'

Let it go. And maybe one day it'll stop hurting. 

Reaching an epiphany is quite freeing.
It's like a voice in my head, and I can hear it. 
He doesn't love you Michaela, he doesn't love you. 
Or at least he's never gonna admit he does.
And that's not love.
It's a back up plan.
One thing I sure as hell don't want to be.

'Go on now go walk out the door...'

Dear......,

Simply put, I can't bear to lose you. So we'll be friends, however strange it might be. But no closeness, no hand holding, no love. Don't take me for granted. I suppose it's better than nothing at all. I tried to cut you off before, and where did it get me but right back where I started, totally and utterly in love with you? No, this is wrong, I can't even write this, it's all too hard. I feel too much. This isn't going to work is it? Goodbye. 

I've decided that we can't be friends. I'm sorry, but it's just too hard for me. However I put it, however I hide it, I'm always going to be hurt and I'm always going to be jealous. Whatever it comes down to, I would never, ever hurt you on purpose and I can't be in a friendship where both of us are just hiding away in order to protect ourselves. I want to be with you, and you're terrified of that, so any kind of compromise relationship between us would just never work. It'd be like putting on a show, a pretence. It wouldn't be real or honest, and that's what our relationship always should be. I don't think I could keep it together like that. Do you not find it ironic that your too scared to give me what I want, and I won't give you what you want in friendship? Remember that I love you, so this isn't easy. But you have to let me go. Stop restricting us from being happy. Either have the guts to be with me, or let me be free. 

Michaela

'The scars of your love remind me of us...'

I didn't quite realised I was in love until it was too late. 

We, the young, the media savvy, define love by terms; how long have you been together, what interests do you share, are you sexually attracted to each other. Like a dating site, we create a profile for our youthful partners similar to that seen on Match.com. So I was too busy ticking all the boxes, protecting myself whilst moving forward the necessary steps, to understand how truly attached I was. Then I lost him. In tandem I loved him.

Alone, I wallowed in it. I let myself feel like never before. The loss seemed greater now than it had at the point of our separation. When that happened, I cried, yet resolved myself to 'moving on'. The love was a gradual hit, a procession, unlike the highs or lows I had experienced before. But I absorbed it, held on to it tight. Because who knows if I will ever feel like this again?

Now, I am even more aware that I love him. I am aware that I am also in his heart, but there is a fear so great in his that it clouds even the love he has for me. I will always keep him close, he will always be my first love, even if I am not his. For the first time, I can say that I love someone with my whole heart. I embrace the fear that I feel, rather than run away from it. But for now, I'm sealing my heart back up, watching over him and moving my love on. Even it knows that it deserves better.

'I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart...'

There's a boy I love.

And he loves me.

But he's scared.

Terrified.

So we're apart.

When we could conquer this together.
(images: We Heart It)

'Keep your head up, keep your heart strong...'

For some people, the words come when they go through something heartbreaking. It wrenches open the part of their brain that was once closed off and allows the emotion to form into something beautiful, whether as lyrics or poetry or words or art. For some of us, it's not that simple. Heartbreak cuts off our nerves and the link from our emotions to our brain, as the heart constrains and protects itself, holding together the shattering pieces.

According to the gospel of popular culture, love is everything. Love lifts us up where we belong. Nothing's real but love. Apparently. I may be utterly, hopelessly in love, but it doesn't feel good. I feel like a pathetic character from an Austen novel, not the heroine but the weeping damsel who watches from the sidelines, bursting with unrequited emotion. Maybe that's okay, maybe it's a stage. But it's been months and I still feel the same; consumed, and falling further. 

I haven't been around, because whatever I feel seems to have cut off my creative abilities like a knife. I dream day and night, but putting pen to paper or finger to keyboard seems to produce nothing but a blank white page or doodling of song lyrics. I don't know what this blog will be anymore.Maybe  I'll attempt terrible romantic poetry, angry rants, or return to fashion, maybe literature. But I have to write, I need to write. I have to get it out, before I burst.

I don't have the worst problems in the world. But I feel more than I should. Much more. I like this quote from the Vampire Diaries (something along the lines of)- "She loves blindly and recklessly, even if it consumes her." And I keep it all locked up inside. I'll hold on to the idea that it will always be okay. I have to. Always. Forever.

'There's nothing you can't do...'

Being a little late on the competition bandwagon, I have read many amazing entries for the LOOK Blogging Competition. It may be a longshot, but I'm going to add my post to the pile!

It took me quite a while to figure out what I wanted to do. While my friends settled on accountancy or law, architecture or acting, I never quite knew what profession I wanted to get into; and at my school, it was drummed into you from the age of 11 that you had to make a decision. But thinking about it now, it's simple really. I want to be a writer. A great one. And I want to write about fashion. 

I've always written. As a child I used to staple together little books filled with my own 'Famous Five' or 'Sheltie' stories. I loved any oppourtunity to do creative writing in class, loathing the fact that we had numeracy every day when we only got to write stories once a year. I'm not the best orator, my quiet voice has never been my strong point, but when I'm writing, I can always get down what I really mean to say. It is where I am truly me, not a mumbling, nonsensical wallflower.

And of course, I love fashion! As a child I was a bit of a tomboy, always in jeans and jumpers, my red hair wild and unruly. I would never spend my pocket money on clothes, it all went on CD singles and notebooks. But when that inevitable teenage low self esteem began to kick in a few years early, clothes became my escape. They were my defence against any possible criticism, the way I presented myself to the world. Fashion became a way to show 'me' to the world without having to showcase any of the bits I wasn't happy with. Fashion was what drove me to get up in the morning and face the day positively.

I love that fashion is more than a trend or a frivolous item of clothing. I love the way it makes me feel, as if I'm connected in some way to everyone else out there in this awesomely big world through what I wear.  I love that it can affect any one of us. I love that the fashion industry has such a growing presence that people are beginning to see that fashion isn't just for vain, self centered people- there's much more to it than criticism and ego. In the words of my favorite TV character, who is so much more than the fabulous clothes she wears, Miss Blair Waldorf:"Fashion is the most powerful art there is. It's movement, design and architecture all in one. It shows the world who we are and who we'd like to be."


  
So yes, I'd love to win LOOK's Blogging Competition and be front row and The LOOK Show, simply because I love fashion and I love to write. No other reason but that. Writing about fashion isn't who I am, it's helping me become the person I've always wanted to be.

'I don't wanna be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately...'

This is not a personal style blog. That is never what I set out to create. I love to read personal style blogs, but my personal style is still developing, and I don't think I'm ready to bravely put myself out there the way some bloggers do.

I'm more of a commenter. I comment on or discover inspiration rather than provide it myself. Writing's my thing, not taking amazing pictures or posing for the camera. I'm shy, kind of introverted, and even if my blog I can't pretend to be anything else but me, even if I wanted to.

So I hope you enjoy my blog, which from now on I hope to be posting on regularly, whether anybody reads it or not. I hope to create a body of work that I will be proud of. A stylish set of not only inspirational pictures but words too. I'll review fashion shows, post on my style icons and my favorite fashion insiders. This is not a personal style blog.

Women (or girls) I admire, not just for their sense of style. (Pictures, Zimbio)