Caught in the inbetween:
The state of being a kid and an adult
Required to act mature,
But often regarded as a joke
The disagreeing expectations muddle,
Puddling at my feet
Is it acceptable to eagerly jump in?
Or should I worry?
If it’s a pool….perhaps it’s depth is too deep.
Unsure of what to do with myself,
As I’m caught in this “inbetween”
It’s an awkward state,
But it’s a result of being a teen.
© 2019 Vic Romero
All Rights Reserved.
I wrote this circa 2012/2013…I’ve been thinking about an “inbetween” state lately…particularly about early adulthood. More on this later though. For now, I will be leaving you all with this teen-angst selfie from 2013, featuring sunglasses that take up my entire face, a cut-up Never Shout Never shirt, and iconic red lipstick.
I’ve reluctantly returned to this shabby town:
A graveyard of my former friends-turned-foes
Five years ago, the demons had burned this shithole down
It has since become silent here, lone for the anguished, laughing echoes
Only my ghosts thrive here now
Incapacitated since the demolition
When I pass them, their white lips are pressed into frowns
Their eyes are haunted by regretful recognition
© 2019 Vic Romero
All Rights Reserved
I just finished sending…at least 10 job applications out. My creative writing class this morning got cancelled because my professor is sick so I took the down time to do that since later I want to focus primarily on my senior honors thesis. I have a five-page proposal due on Monday so I would like to write two pages today and finish it up by Friday so I can submit it to my advisor. I feel like this may be a far-reaching goal but I’ve been pretty focused lately so hopefully I can bang out out five pages before the weekend, which would give me ample time to revise it.
Anyway…I feel like I’ve been a little frazzled lately…I don’t even remember if I disclosed that I’m doing an honors thesis and if I’m taking creative writing! Well..I’m doing an honors thesis and I’m taking a creative writing. It’s awesome because they’re both forms of writing that challenge different areas of my brain. The class is part of my initiative to keep writing for myself…last year I kinda disappeared because I had all this sadness pent up inside and I didn’t even know where to begin to write but…I figured it out with some time and patience and I’m back to writing pretty regularly.
There are a couple of articles though that I’ve been putting off posting…it’s just a matter of me sitting down and taking the time to paste them here. Perhaps I’ll do that tonight during a break from thesis writing.
I wanted to come on here to express my stress about my life after college…which has pretty much all that I’ve spoken about. My girlfriend is more excited about it than I am, but she still has another year of school. I don’t know…I don’t know if I should’ve planned differently but at the same time…I need to stop comparing myself to others, even if they have similar career interests and/or majors. I’m on my own damn path, and it’s awesome and I’m going to flourish!
I was ready this time.
I squatted with my back against the empty pickle barrels, tightly grasping the pistol, waiting. My hands were clammy and shaking, and I tried taking deep breaths to calm myself down. I didn’t want to miss again, not when I only had one bullet left.
I heard some loud footsteps nearby, presumably the graceless footsteps of the enemy. I leaned out from behind the barrel to get a better look, and sure enough, there she was. She was looking around the dim basement, her expression was frustrated.
Of course, he had decided to take the highway. There was no traffic on the highway, so there was no stopping. He must’ve known that if there was an opportunity to jump out of the car, I would’ve taken it.
I slumped down further in the passenger seat, my arms crossed over my body protectively as his words sliced through my skin. He said we were having this conversation because he loves me, but I wasn’t feeling loved at all. It wasn’t even a conversation; it was a lecture. A lecture about me. About what’s wrong with me.
I feel like “friends” is the biggest topic I talk about with my friends. Isn’t that ironic? Well, it seems like many of my friends, including myself, struggle when it comes to friends for a variety of reasons. As of this past academic year (September 2014-May 2015), I’ve mostly been struggling with determining who my “true friends” are and finding people that I truly connect with. It hasn’t been until this summer, thanks to my current internship, that I’ve begun to figure some of my shit out.
Victoria- you are very confident in your beliefs which I admire. I also really enjoy how you piece your clothes together.
She is very intellectual and is really friendly to everyone!
Even though you seem shy, your style is so original and I always love your Doc Martens!
You are smart and will do great in life.
You are a sweetheart
You’re really creative and passionate about your work!!
You seem to have great confidence.
Victoria is so nice and smart and I love talking to her.
You are a very genuine and good friend and I love you girl 🙂
Although we have only talked a few times, I think you have a very good outlook on life and I always see a smile on your face.
Thank you for explaining things over and over for me when I don’t understand an assignment. It’s very nice of you.
Although I always presumed you to be a quiet person, I’ve gotten the chance to talk to you this year and you’re a very helpful person. I feel like I could talk to you easily.
Soft and well spoken.
You are very smart and so nice!
She is such a strong person. She is really sweet and would never want to hurt anyone. She gives great advice and is one of the best friends I have ever had.
You are really nice plus I enjoy that you are not afraid to speak your mind.
In my English class in my senior year of high school my teacher passed around paper with all of our names on it and we all had to anonymously write something nice about each other. This activity was inspired by “All the Good Things,” a story in the Chicken Noodle Soup series. I still have the physical copy of this…it’s nice to reference this when things are difficult. Maybe do something like this with your friends!
Repost from 2012
I’m haunted by her laugh,
Her almond shaped eyes…
I still feel the smoothness of her hair,
I feel the heat from her dreamy stare
I miss her smell
Her soft skin
The way she used to hug me…
My shoulder is where she would rest her chin
I remember how we used cuddle
You always loved to snuggle
And we would watch a scary movie
Playing footsie underneath the table
When I grab you hand to dance
When we called each other nicknames
When we baked
Watched 80’s movies
When we laid in the grass
Went on the swings
Went to get crickets
When you picked me up after I had smoked weed
When you hugged me when I cried
When you never got mad
When we shared snacks
When you made me laugh
When we went to the pool or beach
The way that you dragged your feet
The way you just understood
The way your voice sounded over the phone
The way you listened to me bitch
How I never returned the favor
How I’ve become such a bitch
The way you stood me up
The way you’ve let me down
The way that you weren’t there
I was so unsure if you still cared
The way you became hopeless
The way you left the room without another word
The way that you never smiled anymore
The way that you sat beside me patiently waiting for me to notice you
The way you often cried
The way that you never said goodbye
The way that you didn’t believe me when I apologized
How I ignored that text
How she told me where you’ve gone
That you were sick
That you needed rest
How I never asked about you
How I never called you again
How I never sent a late reply text
How I’ve lost you as my friend
How I’m a horrible friend
I just do the same thing again and again.
© 2015 Vic Romero
“If you ever find yourself in the wrong story, leave.” -Mo Willems
I should’ve left that story sooner, but I didn’t. In my desperation to make things work, I hindered the natural development of multiple stories, ultimately hurting myself. But it wasn’t always painful. Being part of another story gave me a sense of (false) belonging I had lacked for the longest time as well as joyous memories…so I went through with torturously penning myself into the narration. I had convinced myself that the thrills of being part of that story were greater than the pains I suffered. I was wrong.
I don’t want to regret the events of 2014 because it has contained some of my favorite memories…but it also contains some of the worst. Maybe 2014 will be reflected on as a HUGE learning curve for me…as a year of life lessons. I don’t want 2015 to be the same way though…I don’t want to be in the wrong story again.
The last few days have been difficult because I was finally letting go of the story I clearly didn’t belong in and I thought I was losing some main characters in my own story too, but after some time and apologies, everything is okay. I hope everything is okay. It’s a little scary realizing how few characters I have in my story now that my story stands alone…meeting people I have good and true connections with is something I want to improve in 2015, in addition to who I am.
Thank you to anyone that commented kind things on my last post. I’m always around for anyone in need of a buddy as well.
I begin to pull my skin away-
Off of my body
Stepping out of it
As if it were a body suit
Flinging it into the dusty corner
Where my hair resides
I stare at myself in the mirror
All muscles and bones
I begin to tear off my muscle
Losing all of my strength
Losing all that I’m made of
Soon I’m just a skeleton
The only muscles are a set of eyes
So I yank my power source out
It’s warm in my hand
The blood pours out
Then go my eyes and brain
Then I’m just another skeleton.
But I’ve always been dead.
© 2012 Vic Romero
I wrote this when I was seventeen during my junior year of high school. I had been struggling with my identity and accepting myself since I was around twelve and/or thirteen…I think that age is when most people begin to struggle with who they realize they are. Anyway…I used to be really depressed and today I spent a lot of time reflecting on things and thinking…
I’m proud of myself for finding self-peace…I no longer loathe and resent myself…I’m proud of who I am and I strive to be better as well. I’ve come a long way and there’s a lot more to go on this road but I will not allow myself to ever feel the way I did in my past…I am strong and I am amazing and I am excited for what the future has in store for me. Most importantly though, I feel alive.