When I am in a corner deliberately

Hi, my name is Tryphena.

My talents include redirecting conversation topics to food 

and making people feel uncomfortable with my probing questions about their life.

I am not here to meet people, 

Notice how I am standing in the corner,

avoiding contact with everyone else at all costs.

I am simply here because I am supposed to

or I'm doing a favor for a friend.

I do not wish to participate in your discussion of the weather,

or the debate of whether the iPhone 6 bends "for real".

We have two seasons, raining and hell.

It is not rocket science

and definitely not a good ice breaker.

Oh, did you know it rained today?

OH MY GOD, REALLY?

and here's a tip,

don't bend anything that is not supposed to be bended.

Don't get me wrong, 

I am a nice person but

if I am in the corner deliberately and you invade that space,

you better have interesting things to say. 

I am in this corner for a reason.

If small talk is the only thing that you've got,

don't take offense when I make an excuse to go to the toilet and never come back.

I would usually stay and chat but 

if I am in a corner, people watching, 

please leave me alone.

Unless you've come to join me in judging people by their covers for fun,

then by all means.

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.

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 9 of 30 challenge: What do you like the most about yourself? (physically and emotionally)

Physically, I like my calves, my collarbones and my eyes.

My calves and my shoulders are what makes me look less fat. My calves are very very firm and muscular, it's not big but it's very toned due to 11 years of ballet and now, Muay Thai. I look good in skinny jeans because of my calves.

My collarbones because they are noticeable. I have always been a very big kid after hitting puberty. I was too skinny growing up and now everyone says that I am too fat. It's very frustrating because people, make up your minds. They compliment my shoulders, making me look like an athlete when I am not.

My eyes are nice, I guess. I like them because I not only have double eyelids, mine is like three and four layers. ON BOTH EYES. I don't have to put a lot of make up, just a little eyeliner and mascara and I am good to go which is nice. I have covered my mouth and everything in the mirror, leaving only my eyes and played with it. I changed emotions and everything and it's super cool to watch yourself transform even if it's only your eyes. I understand why acting is hard. To convey the right emotion, you need to be able to communicate with your eyes.

Emotionally, I know this is going to sound weird but I like that feeling of slight hope that I feel when I get really really depressed.

Wait wait, let me explain.

Depression happens to me very very often. It sucks and I cannot tell you to what extend of suck-ness it can be unless you have experienced it yourself. It's so bad that I couldn't, yes, COULDN'T do my dishes or my laundry or get out of bed properly without wanting to die.

It's horrible. And then, there's this little voice in my head that tells me, "Breathe, one minute at a time. Come on, get up, love." That's hope. It helps me stop crying. It keeps me alive. It makes me understand that I will be okay.

And again, unless you've been through depression, you will not understand how much a little hope can help a person when you feel like there is absolutely nothing to live for in this world