central park

do you remember when we shared a room in new jersey?
we'd go up the turnpike to new york every morning for three days.
it was the first time i'd ever been up there.
it was the first time, in a long time, that i had felt loved, felt happy.
we were only kids, barely teenagers, and you were my best friend.
i had just gotten out of a relationship but you treated me better than she had beyond the third week of dating.
we were in a room with two other girls
and i slept on the floor and nearly froze my ass off by the air con.
i insisted.
you laughed at me, friendly, telling me i was crazy.

we were supposed to go to central park but it started raining.
perhaps that's for the better. i don't know if i would've been able to resist holding your hand.
we managed to score broadway tickets, though.
i didn't sit with you because of the ticket arrangement,
but that's also probably for the better because you would've seen me cry during the ballads.

i think the way he felt when he was singing about wanting to run away,
catch a train to santa fe,
i got it then.
but even moreso now.
new york was sort of my santa fe.
the city lights, the theatricality of everyone and everything,
the whole damn city oozed with it.

back in the hotel that night i refused to sleep with you again.
but god,
oh god i wanted to.
i wanted to stay up with you and whisper about whatever,
i wanted to lay in your arms,
i wanted to hold your hands in mine.
i wanted to take you down to central park,
kiss under the stars and canopies of trees.
i wanted to go back to the city and hold your hand.
i wanted to.
i want to.

instead i laid on the floor and looked out over manhattan,
looked out over the city lights until my eyes were burning,
burning from exhaustion or tears, i might never know.
but that night,
overlooking the city,
veins fueled with the romance of the musical we had seen mere hours before,
i knew that new york was just a physical manifestation of my santa fe.

you
are my santa fe.

a quick goodbye

sometimes i wonder what it would have been like if our goodbye hadn't gone so quick.
it felt like a long time coming, 
like a pot trying to boil on low heat.
but i was too heart-eyed to notice.

we were young, 
i don't regret it.
i don't regret you.
you were somehow the best and worst thing to happen to me.

i still ache,
knowing the girl in my heart
had someone else in her's.
but it's okay,
because you're happy with him now.

i do regret not being able to drive, though.
i can't go to the lake and not think of you, 
even though we only went with my parents.

the good thing, hopefully,
is that it isn't so much you anymore, 
but the girl i'm heart-eyed for now. 

(she doesn't know)
(but you don't know her, so you can't take her too)

i do wish our goodbye could've been,
say,
an hour.
it was a couple months.
maybe from the start.
but time is relative, anyways.

wholeheartedly yours

exchanging 'i love you' isn't uncommon for us. 
i mean it wholeheartedly when i tell you
i hope you do too.
i think you do too.

love is scary, for me. 
it comes naturally, like a tornado;
it happens, but acting upon it leaves much to be desired. 
i love with everything i have,
everything i am.
but i'm so used to it leaving me aching and painfully breathless
that love is scary for me
to perform the most important, 
most amazingly human thing.

i love love and love loves me, but i'm afraid to love you the way i want to.

the way i feel. 

i haven't felt this way in years.
i'm not sure if it's much more than being 
hopelessly romantic and touch starved,
but i've had an inkling for a year or so. 

maybe we aren't meant, romantically.
nor physically. 
possibly emotionally,
definitely platonically.

for you, i'll settle with that. 
for you, i'll settle for whatever you want.

i wholeheartedly believe you're my soulmate in one way or another.
(or both).
i can't think of a life without you and
quite realistically, honestly, 
i don't want to.
i can't. 
you're my best friend.
i love you.

in whatever way you please.

new start

hello!

thank you for coming to my page, first of all. i feel like i should give an introduction about not only me, but a little bit about what i will be writing, so here we go.

first of all, hi, i’m hannah. i come from a very musical family, so naturally it runs in my veins. i’ve been singing for as long as i can remember, and i taught myself how to play ukulele and guitar when i was younger, and then eventually piano (although i’m still not the best at it). one of the big important things for you to know, i think, is that i am very much lesbian. i was also raised catholic (queue the surprised gasps and internalized homophobia to myself, and myself only). that said, if works based around women loving women is not your cup of tea, perhaps this blog is not the one you should entertain.

i do deal with quite a bit of anxiety and depression, so there will likely be very sad (and possibly triggering) works on this domain. again, if you are someone who cannot deal with those sorts of things for whatever reason, tread carefully. you know what you can and cannot handle, and i want you to be safe. if that means not reading something, then please don’t.

i hope that you enjoy my works. i hope that i can be a source of joy to some, or a source of not feeling alone in what you’re feeling. if you read one thing or a million things of mine, know that i am thankful for it.