I hate change.

Well, most change.

I really enjoy having a stable living situation, romantic interest, and somewhat steady job.

Don’t get me wrong, spontaneity is my middle name

However I enjoy having the same friends I’ve had for 6+ years.

I love being in a long term relationship.

I love knowing Nashville like the back of my hand because I’ve been here for a minute.

But then all of a sudden, usually out of nowhere

boom

Change.

And when it enters into my dramatic, soap opera of a life,

It’s usually a boat load of change.

All at once.

Every season of depression that’s moved over me like a fog, has bloomed out of big changes happening in my life.

But this year has really sent me into a spiral of change.

It all started with a change in my job.

It needed to happen, honestly.

Have you ever worked somewhere that sucked every positive fiber out of your body like a soul sucking vampire?

Well, I was working that job for the past year.

It dug me into a very dark place for a few months.

I hadn’t felt such hopelessness since sophomore year of college when i was committed to a psychiatric hospital.

I started becoming a very pessimistic and honestly, bitchy person.

Which is very much not my nature.

This job turned me into someone completely unrecognizable.

I hated the person I saw in the mirror every morning.

So changing to a new job was just necessary.


And then of course came the breakup.

Dating someone long term

Seeing them almost everyday

Being in love

And having someone who supported me constantly, loved me perfectly, and was my absolute best friend was a dream.

But then I woke up.

And it was over.

That change hit me like a ton of bricks.


And last but not least here I am,

Leaving Nashville.

Yep, you heard me.

I’m leaving Nashville.

Temporarily.

Almost got ya there, huh?

Basically, I’m heading out to sea to sing on a boat for four months.

I’ve never even been on a big boat.

But here I am, making moves and packing up my whole life to leave the city I spent so long planting my roots in.

It’s terrifying.

Because all of a sudden,

I’m single and basically a pirate.

This is not how I pictured I’d start my 25th year in life.


But a few weeks ago, I went cliff jumping with my best friend.

Something I’ve never tried before.

I’m not one to just throw myself off of cliffs.

But I thought,

what the hell? I don’t even know who I am anymore. Maybe I do jump off cliffs.

And I jumped off the smaller cliffs, no problem.

But there was one huge cliff.

Like over 40 feet tall cliff.

And I decided I was going to jump off.

Old Becca would’ve thought,

Um, no. You have to be at work tomorrow and what if you break your leg? Or if you die? Who’s gonna take care of your cat?

But new change-embracing Becca thought,

F*ck it.

I’ve spent so many years avoiding change.

Avoiding decisions.

Avoiding confrontation.

Avoiding life.

Because I’ve always tripped and fell into seasons of change completely unprepared.

And it always sends me into a complete tailspin.

But this time is different.

I am not afraid.

I can go on a boat.

I can be single.

I can leave Nashville.

I can leave all the people I love and they won’t forget about me.

I can do this and I won’t avoid it anymore.

So I prayed before leaping off that cliff.

I thought about making my decisions based of faith instead of crippling fear.

I thought about the customers who have screamed at me for giving them a hot latte instead of an iced one.

I thought about saying goodbye to a wonderful relationship that had to be put to rest.

I thought about my therapist in the hospital years ago who told me it had to get better and I was going to live a long happy life.

I thought about my family moving out of state to get on with their lives after moving here just to make sure I’d remain on this earth for as long as possible.

I thought about my cat and how sad he’s going to be because he won’t understand why I leave one day and don’t come back for him because I’ll be on a boat.

I thought about the love of my life, and how excited I am to meet him.

And I had this overwhelming feeling surging through my veins.

Everything is going to be okay.

I can leap off this cliff and live.

I can leap into change and live.

I can make decisions and live.

I will not melt into a depressed puddle of a person.

Not this time.

So I ran

I leapt.

And I flew.

 

 

“How did I get here?”

The thought I’ve had while sitting on this porch several times.

Like a recurring nightmare.

Why is he leaving?

Why am I not worthy of love?

And not just any love.

The love.

Why can’t I figure this whole relationship crap out?

I’ve watched someone tear out of my driveway like a getaway driver while I sat on this porch.

I’ve poured my heart out to someone and confessed that my feelings for the past three years were indeed not platonic on this porch.

I’ve shared nonjudgmental cigarettes with someone who just needed a friend to share a horrible story with on this porch.

I’ve told people I’ve loved them on this porch.

I’ve been told I’m not the one for them on this porch.

I’ve cried my eyes out on this porch.

I’ve prayed on this porch.

I’m writing this depressing blog on this porch.

The stories I’ve shared over the years have mostly been of my triumphs and turbulences with love.

Finding it.

Falling in and out of it.

Failing at it.

Deciding to walk away from it.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s a crutch for me.

That I’m just way too terrified of being alone.

Having nothing to come home to besides my cat and a mattress on the floor.

And I do believe that the ability to survive and even thrive without someone to fall back on is a skill we all need to nurture and develop.

But at the same time, my worst fear is walking through this life and leaving it all by myself.

I suppose that’s why I get up off the porch at some point and try again.

But trying again is really exhausting and defeating.

To think about finding another person.

Who you happen to meet somewhere in this broken world.

Then clicking.

And you watch for red flags but ultimately abandon your instincts and fall in love anyway because it’s inevitable at some point.

But the red flags multiply throughout the days, months, years

And you turn your cheek every time.

Until they surround you.

And then that horrible thought creeps into your mind

“Maybe they’re not the one.”

Then denial.

Denial.

Denial.

Denial.

And they hold you while you cry on that floor ridden mattress.

And it’s happening again.

You’ve failed again.

You’re sitting on your front porch while they pull out of your driveway and don’t look back

Again.

But at some point,

We all have to take a deep breath.

Stand up.

Walk inside.

Leave the front porch.

And wait impatiently till that stroke of luck hits you.

And you’re pouring your heart out to someone else on that same front porch.

Because it only has to work once.

You won’t have to sit helplessly and watch them pull out of your driveway.

You won’t have to watch them leave.

Because that person will sit next to you through all of the other triumphs and turbulences in life.

On that very same front porch.

 

 

The biggest turn off in the whole world is when someone talks poorly about their ex or, worse, multiple exes.

There’s NO way that one person can date like 5 certifiably “crazy” people.

You know it’s a red flag when someone’s like “Oh I’ve only dated crazy people.”

K,

But who’s the common denominator in all five of those relationships?

Hm.

So before you go off calling your ex “crazy,” here are 31 questions you should ask yourself beforehand,

1. Did you re-download tinder before the breakup talk even happened?

2. Did you breakup with her out of the blue?

3. Did you use any of the following reasons: “I don’t deserve you“, “I love you too much to be with you right now“, “I need a few months to work on myself“,”The timing is just off“, etc.

4. Did you ask our her roommate?

5. Her neighbor?

6. Her best friend?

7. Her mom?

8. Did you ever call her “clingy” for just trying to get in touch with you?

9. Do you still call her?

10. Do you still call her to talk about your relationship?

11. Do you still call her to talk about your relationship and about getting back together?

12. Do all of these conversations happen after 1am when you’ve just left another girl’s house?

13. Did you ever cheat on her?

14. Did you ever cheat on her and then write a blog about how she was de-humanizing you but failed to mention that you cheated on her?

15. Have you ever considered the fact that maybe, possibly, in a strange twist of events, you might just be a d-bag?

16. Do you ignore her existence when you see her just to make her feel like she means nothing to you?

17. Do you spread rumors about her being crazy and that she probably shouldn’t date anyone ever?

18. Do you look over her social media profiles with your friends and make fun of the way she looks, dresses, and portrays herself?

19. Did you post a bunch of pictures of you with other girls .5 seconds after breaking up with her?

20. Did she actually end the relationship and your pride is just bruised so you claim she’s crazy?

21. Whenever you were around her family/friends, did you spend the whole time on your phone?

22. Did you ever steal her phone and look through her texts?

23. Did you ever insult her religion because you don’t necessarily share similar beliefs?

24. Did you ever make her feel bad for not wanting to have sex?

25. Do you see her at parties and claim that she’s stalking you instead of considering the fact that you share the same friend group?

26. When she asks if you can talk, do you claim she’s obsessive when actually she might just need closure or give your crap back?

27. When she writes a blog about how she’s moved on and in a better place, do you claim she’s still hung up on you and just trying to air out dirty laundry on the internet?

28. Do you have shirtless pics on tinder? (Not about your relationship, but let’s me know if you’re a tool or not)

29. Is she an actual diagnosed sociopath?

30. Is she REALLy crazy?

31. Or are you just a dipwad?

If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, I don’t assume your ex is “crazy” but that you’re just a dipwad.

We have to stop talking poorly about our past loves.

We have to stop daydreaming of ways to make our exes jealous and cause them pain.

Everyone does it post-breakup.

I’ve done it, and I’m sure my exes would agree. (*cough*)

It’s not healthy.

Unless they actually ruined your life that like crazy new Netflix show. (It’s basically Gossip Girl to the nth power)

So cut it out. Just be civil.

You invested time and love into this person and now you’re going to drag their name through the mud for what?

Prove your innocence?

That you never made any mistakes in the relationship?

A breakup takes two people.

At least most of the time.

So no, she’s not crazy.

You’re just being a dickwad. (ooo she actually said it !!!)

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

(p.s. can apply to anyone, I just used the pronoun “she” because that’s what I’ve personally experienced)

Well, here it is!

~2019~

A brand, spankin’ new year.

A year where you have yet to make mistakes, acquire even more baggage, or let anyone down.

what a concept !!!


It’s YOUR year, right? The year you lose 20 lbs, quit the commitment issues, stop smoking, and call your mom more often.

This is YOUR year.

So how do we all go about this new, fresh, and clean year?

Well, for me, I sit down a week before the new year and write down my goals for the next year.

I start daydreaming about the person I could be in 365 days.

Maybe I’ll be financially stable enough to take my mom out for dinner once in a while instead of stealing toilet paper rolls from work.

Maybe I’ll go to church every single Sunday and actually participate in Lent this year.

Maybe I’ll learn how to order food with confidence instead of forgetting every word I’ve ever learned when I get to the register.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with someone and it won’t end in a horrible crash and burn.

Maybe I won’t swear as much in grocery stores and horrify the children who happen to be in earshot.

Maybe

What a word,

maybe.”

It’s a word that is just bursting with possibility and almost promises,

But it can also string you along in terminal frustration.

Maybe” is basically an eff boy, for lack of a better metaphor.


But you know what?

I’m calling bullshit.

(sorry, kids)

You’re not a different person just because it’s been 365 days.

You’re not a brand new version of yourself just because it happens to be January 1st.

That’s not how change works.

It’s doesn’t happen overnight.

Life doesn’t have a refresh button that you can press every year.

And it doesn’t wipe away all your mistakes.

It doesn’t just lose all of your baggage like every airline ever.

It doesn’t change everything.

That’s kind of a pessimistic outlook, I know but don’t worry I’m not finished !!!!


I have the best news in the whole world y’all.

Are you ready for it?

(cue Taylor Swift)

You can be a brand new version of yourself tomorrow.

Or on Jan 3rd.

Or on Jan 30th.

Or June 30th.

Or Dec 31st.

You can start making better decisions right now!

Wow!

If you feel the need to change something about your life in order to make it better,

Do it! Right now!

But if you happen to screw up on January 1st, 2019.

It’s all good.

Don’t sweat it,

Because you can always try again tomorrow.

And the day after.

And the day after that.

And probably even the day after.

Because you don’t need a brand new year to become a brand new you.

All you need is the desire to change and the courage to execute that change.

Because tomorrow might not be,

~January 1st~

But it’s still a perfectly good day to be brand, spankin’ new.

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

 

I’ve heard that toxic relationships are pretty easy to spot.

I’ve even spent time attempting to pull others out of toxic relationships before.

I considered myself somewhat of an ~expert~

Because I’ve had my fair share of gorgeous flowers tempting me, only to reveal themselves as dandelions later on.

I swore that I would never let it happen to me ever again.

But you strolled into my life with confidence and humor.

You changed everything.

I’ve fallen in love before, sure.

But it’s never cut me so deeply and fooled me so brilliantly that it left me feeling like an object.

Like I was nothing except a loser at the end of long, exhausting, impossible game.


I still remember when I realized that we were soulmates.

We spent that summer completely enamored with each other.

Sneaking into private pools.

Exploring every part of this earth we could just for the danger and the stories we’d have by the end of the expedition.

I watched you, wide eyed.

Still holding on to some sort of innocence.

I’m not sure I can even remember what innocence feels like anymore.

My obsession bloomed that summer, years ago.

And you recognized that you had me.

All of me.

As long as I loved you more than I loved myself,

You owned me.


I spent the next few years becoming gradually, painfully numb while you flitted around from one girl to the next, back to the first girl, on to another, etc.

And I sat in your room.

Watched you fall apart repeatedly while hating every inch of your life.

And I gave you pieces of happiness.

My happiness.

Every single day, I gave you another piece of my optimism,

My innocence

My love

My life.

I couldn’t bear to watch you deteriorate because others had drained you of all those things.

I gave you every good piece of me I had.

Until I looked at myself in the mirror one day

And I didn’t recognize myself.

There was nothing good left about me.

Just a shell of a human being who became drained and manipulative.

I saw you.


I began to distance myself from this overwhelming love that I had developed for you.

I attempted to fall in love a time or two.

And even succeeded once.

But as soon as you saw me rebuilding my life,

You came crashing in like a wild animal.

Burning down all the progress I had made.

And no one was willing to stay with someone whose heart was already spoken for.

I get it.

But even then, I couldn’t stay away from you.

My limit had not yet been reached.

Everyone sat me down.

Friends,

Family,

Even strangers.

And begged me to let go and to just finally move on.

I refused.

Because what kind of person would give up on love?

I am not someone who just walks away from a relationship because of some particularly heavy baggage.

You were not a lost cause.

I told myself that repeatedly until one day when it all finally clicked.

Love does not mean that you are that person’s savior.

It doesn’t mean that you need to be that person’s only reason to live.

That kind of pressure is unfathomable.

And it ends of destroying both people.

I realized that this love that I had developed and nurtured was not going to just fade over time.

It was a dangerous, terrifying love that needed to be buried alive.

So that’s exactly what I did.

I left.

Refused to look back.

Refused to give in to every impulse I had to protect you.

I see it all so much clearer now that I’ve walked farther and farther out of the smoke.

You can’t save someone else; they can only save themselves.

They can’t change for you.

It may be romantic and cinematic, but life just doesn’t work like that.

People can only change if they want to.

And you just have to keep moving forward.

Keep walking until you see clearer skies and recognize yourself in the mirror again.

I may have loved you,

But now I have to love myself just a little bit more.

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

So a few weeks ago I sat down with a good friend.

We laughed and chatted over coffee.

Put our phones down for an hour to have an honest and open conversation.

We talked about writing, love, music, successes, failures, avocado toast and social media.

In short, we covered a lot of millennial-esque topics.


She told me about a song she wrote about social media and the real dangers it can cause.

Comparing ourselves to one another.

Until we’re addicted to self-sabotaging cycles that never ever end.

All due to a few apps.

Wtf?

I often find myself scrolling through instagram and thinking,

“Ugh her pictures are so well done. I wish my feed looked like that”

I wish I was as skinny as her.”

I wish I performed as much as he did.”

I wish I got as many likes as her. I probably would too, if I posed half naked.”

I found myself judging other people and also comparing myself to them.

Just by looking at their instagram photos.

Isn’t that an odd concept?

You may not know someone well,

Maybe not even at all.

But you find yourself comparing your talents

Your relationships

And even your body parts to theirs.

All because you saw some beautifully edited photo of them next to a river with a flower crown in their hair.

Doesn’t that seem like… somewhat ridiculous?


I think it’s extremely important to remind ourselves

Daily

That social media is a COMPLETE lie.

I mean, obviously some of it is true.

People get engaged, promotions, photoshoots, and experience happy life changes.

But everyone also suffers.

And we all have flaws.

Who you are on social media is not the real you.

It’s who you want to be.

It’s how you want others to perceive you.

It’s the ideal version of yourself

Right?

For example,

Instagram Becca is ~skinny~

Instagram Becca has like ~so many friends~ and like everyone like ~totally adores her~

Instagram Becca is an ~incredibly successful~ singer, songwriter, blogger, cat trainer, archer, swimmer, la-di-da-di-da.

Instagram Becca never suffers.

She’s never felt a prick of pain in her entire life.

All of her breakups have been ~mutual~

(lol)

All of her flaws are covered up with some ~vigorous editing~

She is “perfect

But real Becca?

She’s really out of shape.

When she goes on a run (once every five years) she basically has a full blown asthma attack.

She only has a few close friends, but they mean the absolute world to her because they’ve seen her flaws and choose to love her anyway.

She likes to write songs but she’s not where she wants to be career-wise and her music gets rejected insanely often.

She suffers.

But she likes to cover it up as soon as someone points it out.

She also bites her nails, gets broken up with, still doesn’t know how to do her laundry and takes everything personally.

She’s a hot mess half the time.

But do I share that on social media?

Hell to the no.


So,

Now that you know the real me

I’m going to get even more honest with you.

It can be so incredibly damaging and self sabotaging to compare your flaws, career, or love life to another person.

Especially over social media.

You’re comparing your entire self to another person’s ideal version of themselves.

It ain’t healthy, yo.

So as soon as you start getting into that toxic mindset,

Put the phone down.

Go for a walk.

Have a genuine face to face conversation with someone you love.

Because it doesn’t matter how many likes you get on a post.

It doesn’t matter that you have a picture-perfect looking relationship on instagram.

It doesn’t matter.

None of it matters.

All that matters is you

And what you think about yourself.

Your self worth does not lie in a face-tuned edited photo.

You don’t need 200 likes to feel important or vital to this earth.

You already are.

Just by existing and being your flawed, imperfect, beautiful, kinda chubby, dorky, hilarious self.

And the people who really matter, will love every single part of you

Not just ~instagram you~

 

 

(PS. check out my wonderful friend, Nilka‘s song which inspired this rant and blog)

 

facebook – Becca Tremmel

instagram – @littlelionbecca

twitter – @littlelionbecca

Okay the title may be a little aggressive

But it’s meant to come across as urgent.

Because you need to just freaking say it.

Immediately.

Like right now.

Do you not know what I’m talking about?

That thing you’ve been dying to say for the past month, year, decade, entire life?

Those words that have been slowly rotting inside of you desperately trying to claw their way out of your mouth and into the world?

Still not catching on?

Okay, well let me tell you some stories that will clear things up.


My sophomore year of college,

I went a little…

well…

Crazy.

I was struggling with some pretty violent mental illnesses that devoured my ability to empathize with other human beings.

I had an immense sense of pride.

Several people chose to walk out of my life around that time because they weren’t able to handle my negativity or aggression.

I was impacting them in extremely hurtful ways.

I was toxic.

But I couldn’t admit it to myself.

ME?!

TOXIC?!

No way,

I was perfect.

I had never done anything wrong or purposely hurt someone in my entire life.

Everything was about me and my well-being

No one else’s.

Looking back on it now, I realize that I wasn’t trying to hurt these people that I loved so dearly.

I just wasn’t in the state of mind to admit that I was wrong or unhealthy.

I demanded support without giving any back to them in return and it was unbelievably frustrating.

My stubborn little head could not wrap itself around the fact that I could be

Potentially

Maybe just a little bit

Wrong?

In turn, the consequences were absolutely disastrous.

My loved ones were dropping out of my life like flies

And I couldn’t stop it.

Or wouldn’t, I should say.

Because now thinking the entire situation through up, down and sideways,

I could’ve stopped it.

By admitting I was wrong.

And I could’ve actively tried to mend these disintegrating bridges by swallowing my misplaced pride and telling these people just how much I loved them and that their relationships meant way more to me than a stupid, popular blog or my newfound proud reputation.

It’s a lot easier said than done, though.

I’ve been given the very fortunate gift of new relationships and friendships that completely changed my way of thinking.

When the time came and fights occurred with these loved ones,

They always reached out

Called me at 4am,

Wrote me a letter,

Knocked on my door at 3am,

Just to say sorry and tell me that they loved me.

It shattered my beliefs.

Because I appreciated it so much when they showed me how much they cared and that they were willing to bury the hatchet while I was running around with said hatchet and actively destroying my relationships.

It all taught me something very, very important.

Sometimes it’s okay to say “I’m sorry” first.

It’s okay to say “I love you and you mean the absolute world to me” first.

It doesn’t mean you’re weak or admitting defeat.

It means you’re choosing love over pride.

And trust me, love will make you MUCH happier than pride.

I chose pride over love my sophomore year and it ate at me slowly and relentlessly for years.

I thought about it constantly.

I’ve had nightmares about that time in my life that leave me sobbing in my bed in the middle of the night.

And sitting in my bed in a pathetic little heap of miserable-ness didn’t make me feel very proud

Or loved.

I made the wrong choice.

Pride is never greater than or equal to love.

So now I’m here to tell you,

You don’t have to make the same mistake I did.

If you’re in a fight with somebody you care about immensely but neither of you will just lay down your weapons for 2 minutes to apologize and hug it out,

Be the first to just freaking say it.

If you’ve spent the past three years completely in love with someone who doesn’t know how you feel because you’re terrified it could end your friendship and ruin everything,

Just freaking say it.

Because who knows what will happen and even if the feelings aren’t reciprocated, at least they know there’s someone in the world without a selfish bone in their body who loves them unconditionally. It is an absolute honor to be loved by you.

If you’re afraid to speak out for something you believe in because you’re afraid of being torn down by the masses and it’s caused you to sit in uncomfortable and unbearable silence,

Just freaking say it.

A mob with pitchforks and torches will most likely not show up at your house.

(If they do though, pls don’t hold me responsible. I’m just an emotional blogger who doesn’t know anything)


It’s never too late to make amends.

It’s never too late to tell someone you love them.

And it’s never to late to admit that you’re wrong and apologize.

Even if you’re not wrong, apologize.

Because is your pride really worth losing one of your favorite people over?

The answer is no, by the way.

So just freaking do it (as Nike says).

Just freaking say it.

 

 

facebook – Becca Tremmel

instagram – @littlelionbecca

twitter – @littlelionbecca

 

“So… how have you been?”

Please say anything but “good.”

Please for the love of God.

“Good.” you said, hesitantly

dammit.

“Oh great! That’s… wonderful.” I said with a sigh.

The tension started bubbling up as we said nothing for a minute or two.

Should I just give him the letters? Maybe I should wait… He may not want me anymore.

“Well… we should probably talk.” You said, defeated.

And that was when I knew that no amount of pleading or convincing would keep us together.

You had already given up.

And at that point.

I did too.


 

Five Minutes Sober

 

“We’ll still be friends, don’t worry.”

I nodded.

You handed me my favorite pair of shoes and I placed them on top of my car so I could hug you goodbye.

This was it.

You pulled me in one last time in that bear hug and it took everything in me not to collapse on the ground in a pathetic heap of mangled emotions.

“Take care.” You said as you let go and began walking towards your jeep.

I carried myself to my front steps and watched  as you drove away.


 

Three Days Sober

 

“I don’t want ANY of it anymore! I need it out of my goddamn house! I need to burn everything he ever touched!”

I screamed while pacing around my room and restlessly throwing items into a box

My roommate sat on my bed and her eyes followed my pacing.

“Oh honey, you’d have to burn the whole house down.” She said quietly with a hint of humor

“FINE. WHERE ARE THE MATCHES?” I threw up my hands in complete defeat.

“Okay look, calm down. Maybe just bring the box to his house?” She suggested with raised eyebrows.

“I am in no state to drive.” Tears stained my face and I couldn’t stand still without falling to my knees.

“Maybe Michael can drive you?” She said, nodding.


 

It was pouring as I walked out of my house.

I stared down at our entire relationship that I carried now in a single box.

My face was flushed with tears as I looked up at my friend, Michael running from his car to me

Grabbing the box from my shaking hands

And placing it in his car.

We were both soaking wet when we got in the car

Michael turned to me playfully and said,

“Alright, so we’ll drop off this box on his porch. But we could also leave a bag of dog shit with it as well.”

I laughed half-heartedly and turned the face the window.

Preparing myself to walk up your front porch steps for the very last time.

 

Three Weeks Sober

 

“Thanks for coming over.”

I was shaking.

“I just really needed someone here with me, I think. Just was not in a good mindset.”

An old friend whispered in my ear as I lay in his bed.

What was I doing here?

A constant stream of thoughts flowed through my head at an anxious pace.

You’re no longer the last person I’ve kissed. You would be so upset if you knew where I was. How can I possibly give myself to this person when all I want is to be with you?

I just want to be with you.

“Are you alright?” He asked curiously.

His arms wrapped around my waist and squeezed tight.

“I’m fine.”

All feeling had left my body.

My eyes stared blankly at his wall in the moonlit room.

The numbness had finally overcome me.

I wondered if you were in another girl’s bed right now.

I wondered if you felt the same numbness I was feeling.

Or if you were happier without me.

Please don’t be happier without me.

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

It’s raining harder than it has in years.

The city is asleep as it prepares for another hectic Monday morning.

The pavement glows underneath her as she runs from her car to his doorstep.

She’s breathless

A ball of anxiety

But pounds fearlessly on his door anyway.

Minutes pass as she stares at the ground and bites her lip.

Finally, he pulls open the door.

Shocked.

They haven’t spoken in several months.

But months of silence couldn’t suffocate the four years she’s spent completely in love with him.

Should’ve known better.

She thinks to herself in hindsight.

They stand in complete silence.

Until finally,

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

Silence.

Her eyes slowly lift to meet his.

Those perfect, innocent green eyes that have kept her mesmerized for years.

This is it.

They’ve never kissed, surprisingly.

She thought about kissing him every day for four years.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

Her mind trips over itself thinking and re-thinking over every possible reaction he could have.

This is it.

She loses eye contact with him when she closes her eyes and inhales the last breath she will ever breathe not having kissed him.
This is it.

All she needs is ten seconds of blinding courage

This is it.

Her legs carry her to him with wavering confidence

This is it.

And she places her hands on either side of his puzzled face

This is it.

And pulls her lips to his

This is it.

And the past four years of frustration,

Anger,

Depression,

Guilt,

And heartbreak

Slowly melt away

Drop by drop

With this one kiss.

The kiss we’ve all been waiting for.

And everything that has bruised her,

Stung her,

Left her broken on the bathroom floor,

Or helpless on her knees

Suddenly all made sense.

Because all of those moments

Brought her to this moment

With him.

And she decides that she would live through those painful moments a thousand times over

As long as they always ended right here

Right now

Her lips on his.

His heart against hers.

~One Month Before “The Break”~

 

We were so close.

Lying together in that same bed.

But I had never felt further away from you.

“Please, just tell me what to do.” you panicked.

“I think I’m having an anxiety attack, babe. Tell me how to make this better.”

You pleaded breathlessly.

I was facing away from you on the other side of the bed.

Letting my fingers dig into your blue comforter as I sighed with a hint of annoyance.

“Just… breathe.”

Your breath shallowed and I heard whimpering for the next 15 minutes.

Then silence.

A sensation of overwhelming guilt flooded over my body like a blanket that threatened to suffocate me.

I was in no place to help you.

But I felt a more powerful feeling than even guilt in that particular moment.

Unwavering anger.

I was pissed.

Pissed that you had broken my trust a month prior.

Pissed that I felt on edge with every girl you shook hands with.

Pissed that I was so pissed.

I wanted to love you unconditionally and hold you close and help you steady your breathing and tell you over and over and over again how wonderful and talented you are.

How incredibly special you are to me

But I didn’t.

Instead,

I fell asleep.

And that hideous memory is seared into the back of my mind.

I have never been more ashamed of myself or my actions than in that moment.

For someone who preaches constantly about love, understanding, patience and forgiveness,

I was being cruel.

The visual of us lying there while I cold heartedly held my pride instead of you rarely leaves my conscience.

I am so sorry.

I will always be sorry.

 

~ One week before “The Break”~

 

We drove in your car and got hopelessly lost on the backroads around your new house.

We were laughing and singing “Tear in My Heart” to each other after discovering an adorable French restaurant near your new home.

I was still broken.

We were still broken.

But drop by drop I was feeling the blind rage leave my body,

Slowly but surely

I began to think to myself,

Maybe if I just say something new, something really emotional and future-oriented, he’ll feel special and loved by me once again.

Maybe that will be what fixes us.

Looking back on that impulsive thought, I should’ve put much more intentionality into what I said next,

“I think you may be the love of my life.” I blurted out.

Because I now know that I said it out of fear of losing you rather than actually meaning it.

“I could really see forever with you.” I pushed further.

Silence.

Wide-eyed

Panicked

Agonizing

Silence.

Oh. Shit.

Wow um… babe… that’s… really sweet of you to.. err… say.”

We were still endlessly lost and looking for your house.

And in that moment, I realized we were on a dead end road.

 

~The Break~

 

We sat parked in my driveway for 6 minutes before you answered my question.

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” I begged.

“I have a horrible pit in my stomach and I know something’s wrong.” I kept pushing.

I was always pushing.

“Whenever I feel the pit… something is always wrong…” My words trailed off as I gave you time to respond.

6 minutes of silence.

“I just don’t think this is really working.” you half-whispered.

Ouch.

“Okay… why do you feel that way?” I said, already knowing the answer.

“Because it’s just not.” you snapped.

You took a deep breath, squeezed the steering wheel, and let your eyes drop to the floor.

“Maybe we need a… break?” you said, admitting defeat.

Tears streamed down my face.

I never believed that you would actually give up on me.

I never thought I’d live to see that mortifying moment.

“If that’s how you feel. How long would this.. um…”

I choked

“… break be?”

You paused for a second and cocked your head to the side while looking out the windshield.

“Well… how does two weeks sound?”

I wiped my cheeks and quickly opened your car door.

“Okay, sounds great. Talk to you then.” I panicked.

I shut your car door and started running towards my house

Because falling a part on my driveway didn’t seem so… nonchalant.

And my pride begged me to come off nonchalant.

“Wait, babe.”

You had gotten out of your car and you looked so helpless with those arms falling so heavy against your sides.

“What does this mean?”

Your voice cracked.

I stood there frozen.

And we just stared at each other.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to run back into your arms and beg for you to forgive my daily angry outbursts.

Or if you wanted me to just cut the chord right then and there so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation a second time.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I don’t know.”

And I turned around and walked into my house.

That definitely wasn’t the right response.

I slid onto the floor and felt the weight of a two ton truck sitting on my chest squeezing every last bit of oxygen out of my lungs.

After a few minutes past,

Your car door shut .

And then you were gone.

 

~The Breakup~

 

Sitting on my front porch, I contemplated what I was about to say to you;

How I was going to beg for your forgiveness,

How I was going to give you the 14 letters I had written to you everyday while we hadn’t spoken,

How I was going to ask for my favorite pair of shoes back.

I went over every possible conversation we could have

And how I was going to finally swallow my pride for the first time in my life

And just desperately ask you to stay and work on this with me.

I could do it.

Probably.

I looked down at my phone to check the time.

4:50pm

You’d be here in 10 minutes.

My eyes looked at the sky and I finally just started praying.

I prayed for wisdom and for overwhelming peace with whatever decision we would make together.

I prayed for you to feel respected, loved and understood during this conversation we were about to have.

I prayed for God to just take control of everything and to just give me the words I needed to say in order to successfully make it through this talk.

Then I thanked Him for bringing us together.

Because despite what was about to happen,

I was completely in love with you.

And you were the best boyfriend I ever had.

And that was definitely something to be thankful for.


Your jeep pulled into the driveway.

The car door opened and I saw your face for the first time in two weeks.

You shaved.

Our eyes met briefly before they fell to the ground and you began walking on my lawn towards my front steps.

My heart tumbled into my stomach and I crossed my arms so you wouldn’t see how badly my hands were shaking.

“Hi there.” I said nervously, as you walked up.

Crap, I hope that sounded confident.

You stopped a few feet away from me and stared at me curled up on the steps.

Hands buried deep in your pockets.

“Hey.”


 

 

Thank you for reading,

Becca Tremmel

 

Facebook –  Becca Tremmel 

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca