Bee Gees, amirite?

I realize I've spent a lot of time missing people.
I don't do anything about it.
Not because I don't want to,
A lot of times I would have almost made up my mind
and then, I remember that I couldn't afford to.
It was a bitter moment
because I was limited and there was nothing I could do.
So I settled,
Settled with just missing them.
Maybe that's why I remember the small moments, the small things.
My brain was getting all these information ready
for a rainy day, which was almost everyday.

The things I remember are odd:
the twinkle in my best friend's eye
the way lips felt
the deep sighs that my little brother could make
the way my family harmonizes at the dinner table
cold beer on lonely nights
cigarettes in a loud club
warm hands in mine when my insides felt like pitch black
sharp pain on the insides of wrists

I think I've spent a lot of time missing sensations
In these sensations, there were heights of emotions.
In these emotions, there was a fight to staying alive.
I think I miss being alive.

I have never been the one to run from what I feel,
or swallow what I feel.
It's been more than a month since I've written.
I am feeling exactly what one will feel after a month of being "too busy" to deal with feelings
I feel emotionally constipated,
in short, I feel numb.
I have made myself busy, tired, angry.
I ignored the sad, the depressed, the want to die.
Here I am with emotions overload and I am trying to find peace in places that I know has none.

I have felt angry
because how dare life!
How dare life make me work for the next 30 to 40 years just so I can have a life!
It's not even to enjoy life, it's just to have the slight option of having a life.
How dare life demands so much positivity from me when so much has left me so empty!
How dare I want love!
How dare I want to come home to someone who loves me!
How dare I want something that has been seen everywhere!
How dare I want someone to hold and to hold me!
How dare I want to have a place to call home!
How dare I just want peace.

I realize this year that kindness is linked to love and being loved.
I find myself consciously being aware of times when I am being nice.
Buying an extra soda for my mum when she broke her glasses,
telling my best friend I love her when things are bad.
I never knew how much I didn't care anymore until I cared.
It felt like an awakening, or rather a revelation from myself to myself.
It explained my lack of writing,
my lack of interest in anything that tries to stir up any emotions,
my complete disregard for the presence of any empathy and compassion that I sometimes feel.

To be honest, I don't care.
I don't care if the world is burning or if I am burning
I mean, in the grand spectrum of things,
everything is bullshit.
I am so angry that everything is bullshit.
I try so hard to find meaning or put meaning to things.
If everything is bullshit and everything means nothing,
I am that idiot that tries to ignore the big picture
because so what if she still remembers my birthday and I feel happy that she remembers.
So what if I traveled the world?
So what if I have not felt peace or sanity in a long time, what if that's the last time I felt like someone could love me?
or I have not had a hug, a long proper hug in a while?
So what if I wanted that?
What if I just want life to be good to be for a bit?
What if I just stop trying?
What if I died?

If everything is nothing,
I have wasted my time and I am tired.

Tea and no cakes.

I have not seen him in a year. He has gotten a new hairstyle, new clothes. He has a new habit of running his hand through his hair when he's deep in thought or vulnerable. He said he has been trying to eat healthier, cut potatoes and rice. "More protein and veggies", he said to me, "It's better than not having anything to focus on."

We talked and laughed and enjoyed silence breaks in between tea sipping. Conversations filled to the brim with "I feel the same way too!", "How about you?", "I am really trying to be better," and "I need to hang out with you more often now that I'm back." I learn that he is really good with abs exercises now, likes the color green now and knows what he might do in the next 5 years career-wise. I have missed him. The last time I saw him, he was crying on his bathroom floor, paralyzed with pain. I have never seen or heard a heart break before. There was nothing I could do. How do you save someone who just lost his entire world?

Flash forward, there he sat. His world was rebuild, or at least that was what he is trying to tell me. We talked about everything but that night. I still didn't know why he disappeared, why he wanted to be alone. My questions were at the tip of my tongue. Anxiety had built up at the bottom of my stomach and has transformed into butterflies that might blurt out any seco-

"Why did you disappear?"

His eyes immediately clouded with disconcert, guilt and apologies. He lowered his gaze and knitted his eyebrows together. He continued to open and close his mouth with nothing coming out. He ran his hand through his hair, still looking down while clasping his hands together, left thumb on top. Of all the years I have known him, I know that when he clasped his hands together, he is in pain. My eyes flicker from the frown on his face to the left thumb that has now started to rub on his right thumb. I immediately regretted my question.

"I was in pain. I didn't know what else I could do..." He swallowed with his eyes fixated on the left thumb that never stopped rubbing his other thumb. "I know I shouldn't have done that but I don't know if I could still ask for your help anymore. It was beyond what you could give me. I had to go away..."

I took a huge gulp of water and blinked at him, confused. "You could have told me. You could have asked me to do something. I would anything for you." He still has not looked at me. His left thumb, still rubbing his right thumb. His lips, still a tight line.

Finally, he looked at me. I could see the pain reflecting in his eyes, his neck tensed while he was trying to keep himself together. Why did I bring this up and push him back to where he was trying so hard to get away from? "I still miss her. I still love her. I had to go away to know how to stop loving her." He swallowed again as if trying to gain what little bit of composure he had left. "I didn't leave because I didn't have believe that you will be there for me. I left because it was too painful to stay... I didn't know what else to do." He brought his hands to his chest and squeezed while taking a deep breath. The rubbing of his right thumb has slowed down but he still hasn't unclasped his hands.

The waiter came by to refill out drinks during the lull of our conversation. I had a feeling that I will be annoyed with her if she asked if everything was okay. Fortunately, guessing that she sensed the tension that was present within the radius of our table and she left quickly without a word. I was evidently still upset with him but he had good reason, personal reasons. I couldn't blame him for something that he had to do.

"What would you do if you had one wish?" I asked.

He chuckled weakly and his left thumb started playing with his right thumb nail. "Her," he said softly. "I want nothing else, no one else but her." I saw a small sad smile playing around the edges of his mouth, as if he was remembering something. He continued, "I still remember how I looked at her. I still remember how it felt like to kiss her. It felt like all the stars colliding into a bright meteor shower and the entire world disappearing. It felt like what forever should be like. It felt like everything that I wanted in every lifetime. It felt like she loved me too."

Sensations that I miss.

1. Holding a pencil and feeling it glide across good 70gsm paper.
2. Fingers interlacing together.
3. The warmth that you feel when something good happens.
4. Hands that don't belong to you running through your hair
5. The warmth you get after swallowing warm tea in a cold place
6. Hands moving in water
7. My body just floating in water and feeling like I'm floating in nothing.
8. Cold air gently blowing in my face
9. Warm hands on the side of my face, stroking my cheek
10. The relief that you should feel when you sigh
11. Peace

25 things I learn/am reminded of in March of 2017

1. March is not a good month for me.
2. A black hole in your chest can still hurt even though it's empty.
3. Love doesn't mean the same thing to everyone.
4. The people you love will hurt you, especially when you don't expect them to.
5. The people that love us the most in the world, are the hardest for us to hear.
6. The lucky ones are the ones who are loved exactly the way they wanted.
7. I am allowed to still love you with so much and still walk away.
8. Under no circumstance should you ever lose your temper with the ones who love you.
9. Words of comfort from the ones who love you are never intended to harm you.
10. Always run to those who love you.
11. Your circumstances in life are not an excuse for your behavior.
12. Wisdom does not come with age.
13. Understanding comes with a level of respect.
14. It's okay to leave when people push you away.
15. Under no circumstance should you ever say something because it will help you in that moment and only in that moment.
16. Feeling hurt when paired together with acceptance of loss brings a comfortable amount of peace.
17. You are allowed to blame yourself for things. Just don't believe it.
18. Always communicate what you want and what you need from someone. Do that even when they are not listening, at least you can say you did your part.
19.The words "best friends" are cursed for me.
20. Life is too short for being "too little".
21. Love even when love has let you down because it is the people that you love that disappoints you, not love.
22. There is strength in continuing to love even when you are broken and gasping.
23. Not everyone wants your love, it's okay, you can give it to someone else who wants it.
24. It is okay to mourn for people who left. They were important.
25. Always fight for what and who you love. Don't let your regrets be losing them because you were too scared to fight. Fight.

I got a job and i'm scared.

I got a job.

It was a random email that got me a proper job. I think it was last Wednesday I got an email saying that the guy named Suresh saw my job resume on the job search websites and he thinks I am suitable for this job post that he also elaborated. I had given up on jobs and was already planning that I'll be here till Christmas and thought like what the heck, why not? So, I sent in my resume, in which I got a reply the following day. He said he had sent my resume to the company that is their client and he called me the next day, I think, asking me if I really wanted the job. I said yes, and he arranged a phone interview that was supposed to be today. There was a misunderstanding which resulted in the people calling me 3 hours for an interview that I wasn't prepared for.

I supposed I did well because they wanted me. I wanted to doubt that I wasn't good enough because it was just mind-blowing how fast everything is. I was stammering throughout the interview because I was taken by surprise. I could have done so much better than that interview but it obviously don't matter now.

I start my job on the 26th of September, a Monday. I will get the details of when and where next week. I am leaving on the 21st to get myself ready. I got a place in Subang Jaya. Nice area that is walking distance to an LRT. I don't mind traveling a bit and not being too comfortable because I think I need to be reminded that I am working towards something better. Somehow I believe I need to be reminded of it and be forced to get home on days when I need to just walk it out if it makes sense.

27th is her birthday. She's turning 26. I gave her a handwritten book of the poems that I wrote about her last year. I would have gotten her something this year too but I don't think she wants to have anything to with me now. Funny how someone just stops loving you one day and they decide, then and there, that you no longer matter. I've somehow managed to accept that now. The whole relationship is already feeling like it was a dream, a very happy dream, I don't remember how her voice sounds like, I don't remember how she feels in my arms. I don't remember what she smells like or what her lips taste like. I've started to believe that I have made her up in my head and that she wasn't real. Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe it was all in my head. I may have gone crazy for absolutely nothing. Maybe she never existed. Maybe I really have gone crazy and she wasn't real.

I'm still scared. Who knows, maybe I'm not good enough to have this job. What if the guy that hired me realized I was nothing like the girl in the resume that he read? What if they realize they've made a mistake they're like "I want a refund on this fraud"? Maybe I just can't have nice things.

Maybe that's it.

Good night kisses.

I have always kissed my pillow good night every night before I went to sleep. I imagined I was kissing you good night.You'd stir slightly before wrapping your arm around my waist and making yourself comfortable on my arm. I'd use my fingertips to trace the bridge of your nose, cheekbones, jawline, your eyelashes, your eyebrows- God, your eyebrows were my favorite. I'd lean in to kiss you lightly on the nose, then carefully on the forehead. Kisses like these became a prayer, a promise that I'll love you forever. I would hold you close, place kisses after kisses just to make sure that I get to wake up next to you the next morning.

It turns out kisses weren't promises. Ever since you left, I have never stop telling you good night. Every time after I said good night, I would bundle myself up in blankets. I feel cold when I miss you. It's like my body feels the absence of you. I miss interlacing our fingers together. I miss you sleeping on the nook of my armpit. I miss being woken up by you trying to curl up closer to me. The pain became bearable, humming in the background but I have never stopped missing you every night.

Autumns and him.

I have never met you.
When I think of you,
I think of autumn,
breezy afternoons and chilly winds.

I was told that autumn can be quite cold
and somehow,
I can imagine us taking a walk in the park.
Hand in hand,
fingers interlocked.
I don't know how cold I'd be but
in this imagination of mine,
your hands were warm.

In my mind,
we were wearing scarfs of the same color.
In my mind,
 we are walking hand in hand in the same park.

How do you know you're in love.

How do you know you're in love with them (or anyone in general):
There they go. As flawless as they can be. Everything about them makes you smile like a kid at the carnival for the first time. You can't blame yourself because you're in love with them. How in the world did you end up here? You feel like everything in your life has happened and aligned so that you could be at this place to meet them. They were everything you wanted and needed. You are happy after a very long time.

When you hold their hand for the first time, their hands feel like the right temperature, the right size. Waves of excitement and joy rush over you and drags you under. Then, you found out that you can breathe underwater. What joy! This is the most amazing feeling ever. The first kiss. The first time you went on a date. The first phone call. The first sleepover. You will feel invincible, like nothing can kill you. You were on top of the world. It doesn't matter if someone came and knock you down. With them, you could just climb up again, no biggie.

To be loved.

When I was younger, I was a ball of anger, fury and pain. I went through old diaries and journals. It spoke of nothing but pain and my love for other people. I think I didn't know how to love myself so I just ended up giving away every piece of myself even to people who don't deserve it. It sounds cliche but it is cliche for a reason. It happens.

I wanted to be loved but I refused to give anyone the permission to love me. That made a lot of things harder. In spite of that, I know now, that I just wanted to be loved so fiercely that I have no way of doubting it. That is how I loved people. You can never doubt I love you. You will be that sure of me.

I'd give myself a hug. I think that's all I wanted, really. I wanted someone to hug me and stay there for 15 minutes. I wanted to be loved.

You don't have to love me back.

I know it's exhausting for you, to deal with someone's love for you, especially when you don't want it or can't return it. I understand. You watch your words to keep how you feel unknown. You keep your wall up so you don't feel too much. You have always been a master at changing the topic to another completely different train of thought.

When I said I love you, you didn't say it back.I said it six times more on different occasions. Not once. Not once you acknowledged it. I'm sorry if it's unwanted. I didn't know. Well, I guess I did. I just didn't want to believe it. You've always said that we should be better off as friends. I don't think I know if I can be your friend. I love you. I have trouble finding the right way to explain what I feel. Then, I concluded that no combination of 26 alphabets can summed up to the way I feel about you.

I can't explain why I feel sad because "because I love you" would be a weird answer. I guess, "you can't be mine" would suffice. I'll remember the way you look at me. I remember how your lips curl up in response when we kiss. I'll remember how your skin feels. I promise I won't forget you. I understand now. I love you. You don't have to love me back.I won't force you to reciprocate what you can't.

\

Who was ever lucky enough to be loved in exactly the way they wanted? - Carmilla Karnstein

Day 6 of 30 Day Poem Challenge: Write a poem of any length incorporating every word from your latest Facebook status

I'll cheat by using the latest thing posted on my wall. It was a check-in made by Zara and she tagged me into it. Mainly because my last status was me being in the hospital and I really don't want to write that. So,

Latest status: Sit back, relax.

Sit back, relax.

Tell me how are you, this is a safe place,

nothing you say will be judged or told to another individual.

It's okay, how are you?

Say you're fine, you've been doing well
I'm okay, as okay as I can be.
Now nod and smile, 
no, not like that, wider, bigger
you need to convince them, and me
Things are good and I am good.
Good, now look down,
don't hold eye contact, they'll know..

Are you sure? Were there any bad days?

Days where you cannot control your anxiety?

Yes.

No, I have complete control over them.

Look away, no, not so fast.

Look at them, now smile.

Things have never been better,

everything hurts less.

Bullshit.

I think I'm overcoming this.

Bullshit.

I think I might be better.

Bullshit, you're way worse than before.

Did you hurt yourself?

No, don't freeze, too late.

Why did you glance at her?

Cover it up, no, don't touch your wrist.

Shit, she saw that.

How do you lie out of this?

Folding your arms together does not help.

Whatever you do, don't tell he-

Yes.

You are a fucker.

You could have kept it together.

You don't need help.

You can do this on your own.

No, don't look at her like that.

Don't admit you are weak, you don't need her.

Come on, say something,

defend yourself.

Tell her that it's fine,

tell her that you're used to it

SAY SOMETHING.

Yes.

I felt like I was going to die,

and I didn't want to die.

It's okay, you're still here,

that should count for something.

No, I don't need help.

I am going to help you get better.

Really? You mean I can be better?

Sit back, relax.

It's okay, you'll be okay.

....

Love letters.

I'm sorry I can't write you a love letter.
No, I don't mean "those" letters.
You know, the ones that involve words like,
You and I, forever, house, children, mortgages,
and occasionally, your parents suck.
Love letters, the type I meant were
the ones where you tell them about a place that you went to
because they love the color red.
Then, you'd tell them about the person that you met recently
and how this person's laugh is similar to theirs.
Letters where profanities and insults were the language of endearment,
and I think, it will probably end with,
"Dude, text me. Why are you writing?"
Letters like these are never long,
sometimes they are a beautifully sculpted essay, using words such as,
flamboyant, combust, dynamic, serendipity.
Sometimes they are a random string of words, like
pizza, hippopotamus, Herbie, smelly, you.
Another thing about these letters is that
it made sense either way because it was written to you,
only you,
with love.

I can't write love letters anymore.
The last person I wrote to stopped talking to me,
and now, I am writing this to you
after deleting 290 photos of me and her at 3 in the morning.
I am not a person who is good with speech, or affection
or love, or relationships.
The only thing that allows me to properly explain the things that I feel
is a pen and paper.
Therefore, love letters, they are a manifestation of everything that I am afraid to say and
even everything that I refuse to say.
When I write to you,
no other thoughts but you will occupy my mind.
You will be my sole muse, my inspiration until the very last word
which is where I sign "Love, Tryphena"
I would use words to paint you like a picture, in hopes that
you would understand how I see you as a human being.
I have a knack for seeing things about people that are not noticed by many,
I'll tell you how you always keep your arms close to your body,
like somehow, you are trying to make yourself smaller or to preserve body heat.
I'll tell you how you always smile differently in pictures, especially the ones taken with me.
I'll tell you that people love you and you shouldn't be with someone who doesn't.
I'll tell you how you always change the topic to something else when it's a question that you didn't want to answer.
Then, to make things worse,
I'll tell you how different I am when I am with you.
I'll give you examples, references, citations, everything to show
how your existence is so important to me.
I'll tell you that you're the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep.
I'll tell you that I am comfortable with you, even when we're both in decade-old PJs.
I'll tell you that I check your "last seen" on whatsapp when I couldn't sleep.
I'll tell you that I never stopped loving you.

If I write you a love letter,
I am giving you my heart, my self-esteem, my self-worth on a silver platter.
If I write you a love letter,
you are given the ability to crush me into a million pieces in the time span that ranges from one millisecond,
to three years,
or more, your choice.
If I write you a love letter,
I am exposing myself to you in a way
that I later will suffer maximum damage from
if you ever plan on killing me.
If I write you a love letter,
I won't be able to take any of it back if you chose to leave,
and I will be left here with all the words that I ever wrote to you,
stuck in the back of my throat.

In spite of this,
if I write you a love letter,
you should know that I must really really love you.

Moments.

I crave the nights where it's just me and a bottle, or in some cases, bottles. I love how the bitterness of beer silenced the loud voices in my head, shocking me into the moment of then. I love how the cold surface of beer bottles cause water droplets to condense. My fingers will trace the patterns etched on the glass bottle and I will feel the temperature difference between the cold glass and the warm breeze. Sometimes I'd wipe the bottles dry, sometimes I'd just let them be. It'd be bottle after bottle after bottle, a private competition with myself. How many till my brain gives out?

I crave the nights where I am able to breathe out the pain along with cigarette smoke. There is something calming about having a cigarette between my left forefinger and middle finger. I'd be able to feel the heat emitting from the lit cigarette bud. I'd flick off the burnt ends of the bud, exposing the still-burning tobacco insides. I would just sit there and watch it burn sometimes. There is some comfort in the smell of cigarette smoke when I am down. Watching the cigarette turn into ash and watching the smoke disintegrating into the air instilled a kind of serenity in me.  It's a familiar sense of pain and a comfortable kind of numbness.

I crave the nights where it's quiet. Quiet, in a sense where it's peaceful, silent, simply quiet. The only sounds in that moment are either cars speeding past or the wind. I'd usually be leaning on the wall or hunched down by the steps on the sidewalk. I'd do nothing else but breathe. It is only in times like these that I let my desperation to survive take over. I would inhale long drags of cigarettes, chug down half a bottle of beer to fill up the void that I feel somewhere to the left side of my chest. I would feel the complete weight of my depression. However, I know that I wouldn't want company. All I would want to do is to close my eyes and exhale.

In moments like these, I would feel completely and utterly alone. But then again, I would be lying if I said that I didn't want to feel like that.

Greatest achievement of the day: 20/6/14

I am sitting here, listening to "This is What It Feels Like", W&W's remix of Armin's song while eating a quart of yogurt.

It's weird how painful breathing is. Everything just feels heavy. Even though it's painful, I also feel numb. My heart hurts but somehow my mutilated wrist didn't contribute to that. I can't remember half the things I've said or done. It sucks, it really does.

Greatest achievement of the day: I got up from bed, walked out of my dorm and went to get a drink and yogurt for dinner. It's pathetic as dinner but it's something because if I didn't force myself to get up, I'll just stay there till the next day.

Seeing that I can barely type out a proper sentence without zoning out after every word, I'll leave it until next time.

I have absolutely no hope left in me. A car would hit me and I wouldn't care but because of this, I am still here.

Day 15 of 30 challenge: What’s something you wish you could say to that someone?

Depending on what and who someone. I have so many things that I would like to say to a lot of people but there's always one. She caused me so much pain. Too much and I practically died from it. I'm a very very different person now. No, I don't need people telling me, I feel it, which is sad.

Dear you,

You fucked me up. Do you know that you completely fucked me up? All you said, this entire time, was "get over it", "try harder" and "what do you want me to do?" What do I want you to do? Tell me we are still friends. Tell me that you still need me in your life even though we don't hang out anymore. Tell me that you don't want to see me anymore. Tell me I am dead to you and you were using me all along. Fucker, do something about it. I did everything I could and it's up to you. You fucker, what do I want you to do? I want you to fucking suffer as I watch on.

I can't look through my phone's photo album because you are in 60% of all the photos. I can't listen to songs because there are so many songs that are associated with you. I remember the movies that you liked and realized even though I also liked them, I can never see them as MY movies because YOU liked them. My favorite songs are desecrated by the memories of you. Fuck you.

I can list out all the random things about you. I don't know how much about you has changed but I don't think I care now. You have been the biggest mistake that I have ever made. You were the one that made me hit rock bottom by just telling me to do so. The worst thing is that I'd do it because you said so, just like how a siren makes a sailor meet his death. You were a fucked person from the beginning. I should have seen that. I know that I refused to because I honestly loved you.

I remember the day that you didn't come to school because you got your stomach pumped. I remember the day where you fainted outside the classroom. I remember the morning you called when you got into an accident. I remember the night that you called when you were in Spain. I remember the day when you surprised me with you already back from Spain. I remember travelling to the Philippines with you. I remember tucking you into bed when you were so drunk. I remember acting as a look out whenever you wanted to smoke at home. I remember waking up at 1am to drive you to get your car which died earlier that day on a hill. I remember wrapping my arms around you while you cried and feeling completely helpless. I remember crying, telling you that I couldn't stop bleeding and all you could do is scream at me. I remember crying again, telling you how I feel and you frowning, telling me to try harder. I remember sitting in front of you, begging you to see that I am trying my best and you just coldly telling me to try harder again. You're a fucker.

You are a bitch, a fucked up asshole that threw me aside but kept me close enough so that it's be easier for you when you needed me. Now that you have a new group of friends, you completely ignored me. I never received any phone calls or messages from you anymore. Everything you said about loving me and me being someone that you trusted was a lie. If I was so important to you, why was it so easy to kick me out of your life? It's like you never existed now.

I don't remember what your laugh sounds like. I forgot what you sound like when you're happy. I forgot what your different smiles mean, or maybe all of them are just different depths of lies. I don't remember how you'd react when you're stressed. I don't remember if you like sushi or not. I don't remember your shoe size or the prescription of your eyesight. I don't remember what you look like when you're happy. I don't remember if you hated spinach or not. I don't remember the kind of pen that you use or your Starbucks order or your favorite book or if you ever loved me.

You broke me. Do you understand that, you broke me? Just like he broke you back in July 2011. The only difference is that I was holding you in your car while you were crying during a thunderstorm. I'm here now, feeling every ounce of this pain but I'm alone. I gave you everything, my time, my energy, my whole being. You said, "Not everyone will screw you over. I won't." Fuck you, I still remember that. It was in your study room. You were wearing that grey jumper from Philippines with your hair in a bun. You looked me in the eye when you said that. I honestly believed you then. Oh god, I really loved you.

You were the last person that I would ever hurt. Clearly, it's not the same with you. Do you even understand the thing with me now? I cannot feel anything more than a glimpse of pain. I cannot cry, nothing. When I was writing the paragraph above, I was so so close to tears and then, poof, gone. It's like my mind blocked it completely. It is a good thing for me though sometimes because I'd imagine beating you up and I'd just hit you over and over and over and over again. It doesn't even bother me that I might kill you. Or I'd just bludgeon him and make you watch.

I have no mercy for you now. I won't mind doing something that will cause you pain. I'd make sure to be a witness to it. Just like Regina from Once Upon A Time, your suffering will be my happy ending. I don't understand what you did, I don't think I'll ever understand it. You're a fucker. You're a fucked up person. I pity everyone who loves you because you'd just throw them away just like you did with everyone else. I know so much about you, and now I see it. You have no one close because you throw all of them away when they served their purpose.

Fuck you, F. I really loved you but now, fuck you. You'd never understand and I don't expect you to anymore.

Leaving behind.

I can't help myself from looking out of the window. They say, in order to move forward with your life, you cannot look back. Then again, what happens when you are not leaving but leaving behind?

I am sitting here in the plane, waiting for the passengers to finish boarding. I reckon most of them are either going back from a sadly short vacation or going home. Most of them wear a hijab and are alone so I'm assuming they are all students and are going back for their holidays.

Taking off is slow as usual. It is as if it's giving me a chance to jump off the plane and yell "I'm not leaving!". The temptation to do so gets stronger as the plane starts to get on the take off lane.

"We're ready for take off," says the captain and my brain switches to full panic mode. "Wait, I'm staying" Obviously I was too late and all I can do is just sit here helplessly as the plane flies off full speed in to the air.

My eyes desperately tries to take in every familiar building that swishes by; My brain tries to recall where every single building is and their purposes. Secretly, I was searching frantically for my house, in hopes of catching a last glimpse of it, even though I know damn well that it's on the other side of the city.

As the plane disappears off into the clouds, sadly with me in it, I was forced to stay in my seat and just accept the fact that I am flying off. So, what happens when you're not leaving but leaving behind? They don't tell you anything about it but I'll tell you now that it's not bad to look back. After all, all your stories, your dreams, your beginning started there. It's only fair that you never ever forget that.

Things that I found to be true after 21 years of living.

1. Eating good food everyday is not exactly a blessing, indigestion follows closely after that.
2. It should make a difference when someone loves you.
3. Good teachers may not necessarily be good people.
4. Apologizing always eases the tension after a fight.
5. You will always remember the people that you used to love. You will remember every detail of how you come to stop loving them. It will still hurt you, even if you're over it.
6. You will have dreams of killing people that pissed you off in real life, it's okay.
7. It's also okay to want a goat, an alpaca and a flying carpet.
8.You may stray a little growing up but you will go back to doing what you love. For me, it's writing and reading.
9. Growing up is shit. And very painful.
10. You will really REALLY love a person. They will eventually screw you over because that's what people do.
11. Being friends with yourself is nice, you don't really go wrong there.
12. Don't fall in love because everyone else had someone. You don't need anyone, you can survive very well on your own.
13. Make new friends, they can change and probably save your life.
14. Invest in a hobby, You're doing it for you, there's nothing wrong with that.
15. It's okay to want to punch people in the face but it's not okay if you actually do it. I'm sure you're not sorry after doing it.
16. It's okay to want to make people hurt just like how they hurt you. It will help you grieve.
17. It's okay to kiss guys and girls, as long as they don't belong to someone.
18. Writing is good for the soul, well, your soul. I don't know about other people.
19. It's okay to not love someone who loves you. If it's not there, it's not your fault.
21. It's okay to not follow the order of numbers because it's my blog, fuck you.
22. Everyone has their own stories of happiness and loss. Listen because they help you understand life more.
23. You can do so much more than you want to give yourself credit for. Don't be fucking modest, they get you nowhere.
24. You will want to change for someone, you will not want to listen to anyone who tells you otherwise. It's cool, you'll come back.
25. There will be days where you want to stay in bed, then stay in bed, play Sims 3 and starve.
26. Swearing is not okay or polite but you will start swearing because everyone is swearing. You will continue swearing because you won't know how to fucking stop swearing.
27. Sadness will always be a comfort zone and you will not be able to understand it but you will get out of it, slowly.
28. There will be days where you would want someone to love you but it's still cool if you don't feel like that two hours after.
29. Loving a guy is cool, loving a girl is cool too. You're able to love, unlike Voldermort.
20. The best "day" of your life will be a collection of moments that you don't want to forget: The way someone looks at you. The way that someone smiled at you. That day when you laughed so hard that you thought you beat depression. The day where you are happy to be alive.
30. Birthdays aren't all that special. It's just how you see the birth of yourself. YOU. Not anyone else, so congratulate yourself for making it this far. I would know, my birthday was just yesterday.

Day 12 of 30 challenge: What would you say your biggest fear is when it comes to relationships?

Obviously from the last post, you'd know that when I love, I really love. My biggest fear when it comes to relationships is that when they leave me, I wouldn't be able to put myself back together.

It happened to me though. No, it's not a relationship, I didn't date that person but we had a real relationship, as in connection. That person was the first person that I really truly loved and that person was one of the most important person of my life. it happened to me because I didn't think that they would leave.

I trusted that person, I love that person. When they left, I felt like I was dropped on my butt. I thought that I had felt the worst of pains when something similar happened to me when I was 15 but I was wrong. I was devastated. I was at a sense of loss that I didn't understand, I felt like a compass that forgot where North is. I was completely useless to everyone because all I wanted to do was to go back to that person, or at least to that person I once knew.

There were days where I couldn't breathe, as if holding my breath was easier because every breath was just as painful as a stab to the chest. Actually, I would take that stab to the chest, thank you very much. Everyday felt like I was drowning but I couldn't die. I was in so much pain that I didn't know how to function without wanting to scream every single time I took a step. then, this numbness took over and I thought numbness was suppose to make you numb. No, it burned and the pain intensified, screaming just does nothing to help. I don't understand how I could still be alive right now.

I still feel it everyday. Every god damn day. You don't just get over this kind of pain, you feel it everyday, the after effects, everything. It doesn't leave you. The pain and burning and panic comes once in a while, and when I see that person, everything that I felt would come back, it'd be like it never left. I paid so dearly with that one time when I let my guard, my whole guard down. I was destroyed and I couldn't pick myself up after.

That person tells me to open up because I needed to and they were the last person that I opened up to. Fuck you, letting you in was the biggest mistake of my life. You destroyed me, completely utterly destroyed me. You left me there in pieces and you expect me to be okay just because you said I would be? You gave me pain, pain that I didn't understand and I didn't know human beings are supposed to feel this kind of pain. Congratulations, you have rendered me completely useless and broken me beyond repair, my repair.

Are you proud of yourself? Will this be added to your lists of accomplishments? Will you do this to other people too? BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT, I STILL LOVE YOU. I still want you to be happy, I want you to smile, I still want the best for you.

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, AFTER EVERYTHING YOU PUT ME THROUGH, I STILL LOVE YOU. God, help me, I still love you so much and I don't know what to do.

Day 11 of 30 challenge: Are you a lover or a fighter?

I am both actually.

When I love, goddammit, I love.
I'd tell you that you look beautiful, perfect,
even with all your flaws that hung off your walls of insecurity.
I'd sing you songs that remind me of you.
I'd play you the songs that my heart beats to when I see you.
I'd say that you are a story waiting to be told, 
these scars that you bear from falling down and wrong side of beds.
Holy shit, that smile, I blew it the moment you look my way.
You are the plot twist in the stories, you captivate people,
you are the climax, the one that everyone has been waiting for.
I'd write you songs, poems,
but then, I'd stop because
no combination of 26 alphabets could ever describe
what I feel for you.
And those eyes, they echo centuries and centuries of wisdom and insight,
I could stare at them for so long without feeling lost.
I'd have to set myself on fire. 
Engulfed in flames,
that would be something that is only seemingly accurate 
to this overflowing love that I feel for you.
I'd scream to the whole world that I love you.
Oh my god, I love you.
I wouldn't be able to understand it completely,
I wouldn't be able to understand how is it possible for someone to feel
so much, so much about someone,
and not explode.
Goddammit, I love you, 
I love you so much.

A fighter, yeah, I am that too.

I'd beg you not to leave, I'd throw out every reason that I can make up to apologize.
I'd beg, on my knees, snot and tears, to fix things
I'd compromise, give whatever that I have.
I'd figure a way to make things work.
I'd refuse to take no for an answer.
I'd make it work, 
I'd make us work.
Fucking hell, 
I would do anything for you.