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.

Anywhere but here.

Sometimes I have a feeling that I am not where I am supposed to be.
I feel like I should be miles and miles away from where I am right now.
I should be in a tent in the forest, camping with the love of my life
I should be half way across the world, studying or
walking to work, thinking about what to have for dinner.

It's not like I don't plan my life.
I think that was the mistake, planning my life.
When things don't follow "the plan",
everything else falls apart and I am now sitting here,
trying to use the pieces to make a new plan.
I feel like a spider that is only trying to make its web.
I spent time making the strands even,
making sure it's long enough to stretch from this beam to the next.
One more strand, one more and I'm done.
Then, rain poured.
Itsy bitsy spider went out the water spout,
down came the rain and washed the spider out.
That bitsy is me.

I wonder if it is human instinct to keep wanting a better place for yourself.
I keep thinking that I am better than what I am giving myself credit for.
Maybe, maybe I believe if things were different,
I wouldn't be in this much pain.
If I could be anywhere but here,
the timelines could be different then.
If the timelines were different,
I could be walking home,
thinking what I'm going to have for dinner with the love of my life.

10 things I found to be true after 23 years of living.

1. God is good.

2. Too much cheese will give you gas.

3, When you are in that "headspace", every hello will sound like a different version of "I'm sorry" and goodbye's, they'll sound like "Take care, I love you so much".

4. Sometimes "I love you" isn't enough. "I love you" does not make acceptance rain down from heaven. I learn that "I love you" na matter how many times it is said, it does not make people stay.

5. Heartbreaks are shit. Even after a million times. They will still feel like drowning, in a storm with crashing waves that keep you underwater. They will leave you cold, crying and broken. I learn that it hurts even more when you begged them to stay.

6.   There is always something calming about sipping drinks with straws. I like holding my drink with both hands. It makes me feel content.

7. You are loved even if you don't believe it. People will give you their jackets. They will call. They let you stay with them because you couldn't do anything else but stay in bed. They will knock on your door and let themselves in because they know you won't get the door. You are loved. You just need to choose to see that they are there because people cannot save you if you keep jumping into the hole that you got pull out of.

8. Pain is gift to writers. With pain, comes the romanticization of heartbreak and letting go. Pain will be given a face, a personality. Sometimes pain will feel sorry that he or she is visiting. In some stories, pain is a long lost friend, accompanied by anxiety and depression. Writers often paint pain in black and white and call it "colorful". I picture pain as red. I guess it's supposed to mean "Stop", "Danger", "Run" but guess who ran head first and got the wind knocked out of her? Me

9. It does make a difference when someone loves you. Someone wise once said, "Being loved is not the same thing as loving." When you are loved, you become a manifestation of calm waters and late nights. Being loved releases you from the cage that you build around yourself. Being loved reminds you that love is a real thing even if you cannot see it.

10. When I was 21, I wrote about not understanding the concept of happiness and love. I also wrote that I don't like birthdays. I am 23 this year. I have had a brief meeting with happiness and love. I like birthdays now. Two years, so much has changed and happened. Despite all the changes, God is still good.

A marriage proposal that I will never get make.

I knew exactly what love looks like.

When I saw you at the airport, luggage in hand, 

eyes still hazy from sleep, I knew you were everything I could ever asked for.

When you wake up in the morning, grumpy, 

morning breath, shirt up to your stomach, 

love of my life.

If someone asked where I see myself in ten years,

"Me and her in a condo", I'd say.

We would have a big couch with white goose feather pillows,

a kitchen with brightly colored utensils.

I see us dancing in the living room, kissing with juice-stained lips,

We would try to count the stars from our bedroom window,

pretend we live in another galaxy, with our pet dog.

If someone asked where I see myself in ten years,

I say I'd be with you in our little piece of heaven,

Being loved by you is the most painless thing that I never deserved,

Being loved by you felt like turning at the last right on the way back home. 

You make me want to wave at strangers that pass by me,
make me want to go skydiving even though I have a fear of heights.

You make me feel like I can never drown when I swim,
like I can never die; and if I do, it's okay.

You make me feel like I have nothing to be afraid of. 

When I am with you, there was nothing I couldn't do.

Of all the times that I have pictured you in a wedding dress, 

this was the one time when I also see myself next to you. 

If I had a dollar for the times when people asked if I was sure,

I could pay for the rest of our lives. 

I get to hold your hand forever, wake up next to you, kiss you good night,

tell you to get milk, drive you to places, eat burgers - forever. 

You are my best friend and my soul mate.

When I kiss you, I can taste the next fifty years of my life.

I promise to love you, treasure you and call you Sugarpie for as long as I'm alive.
I love you so much.

Will you marry me?

I am so tired. I wake up and you're the first thing I think about. I go to bed and you're the only thing I think about. I am so tired. I have stopped writing for so long because writing helps me understand what I am feeling and it helps me "get it out". I don't want to get it out because getting it out means that it's real, it means that I have to accept it. So much has happened. Long story short, I am in pain and the only one left in love. She doesn't love me anymore. Everything that I thought we had, to her, it's gone. And I don't know how to stop loving her yet.

My depression got worse. Who knows, they say it's easier to bounce because you have felt love and happiness and you'll have the hope that you will find it again, that I will find someone again. The thing that people don't get about having depression is that it doesn't work like that. I am so tired of explaining myself, to everyone. I am lonely. I feel as if I only exist in this bubble. It gets harder to breathe with each day. I have spent nights and night writing different versions of suicide notes to different people in my head. I spent nights thinking about how to die. And what's the worse part? I know there'll be people who'll be sad but in my head, depression makes me believe that they only love me because I do something for them. I believe that no one loves you because they want to. I do that and it backfires at me. I love her so much and still love her so much. I believe that she loves me but I also believe she loves me because I treat her well and I will never abandon her. I believe people love selfishly.

I don't think I'll ever get better. After 9 years of this, I thought I'll at least get happier. I think I was wrong. People say that it worth it if you get to feel what happiness really is but I don't think so. Depression makes you believe that no one loves you. It convinces you so much that you stop hearing yourself think. I am tired of explaining myself to people who don't understand. I don't want to make them understand anymore. I am fighting a battle that is already over. That's why I treasure birthdays,

Cassandra, you always tell me that you don't celebrate festivities or birthdays or such. I do, I try to celebrate it as much as I can even if you don.t That's why I made you gifts for each event. I might not survive the next year. I feel like God has abandoned me, Even so, I wanted to make sure that you are loved, if I am not there anymore. I did my best with each present. You have my heart. You gave me so much courage. Now it doesn't matter anymore. I hope I can still be there when you turn 27. If not, I know you'll find a guy who'll do that with you, one you can bring home to your parents, one that won't make you disappoint your parents.

I hope I make it but at the same time, I don't.

VLOG I From Kuala Lumpur to Kota Kinabalu

I made a vlog.

It's my first vlog actually. This is an important part in my life because I am in a transitioning period in my life where I am going from student to sort of working adult. I am going to be doing my internship soon.

Things have been great. I am scared but exciting to see if things can be better.

All the best to the rest of you guys.

20 seconds of insane courage.

They say sometimes it takes only twenty seconds of insane courage to do something outrageous. It takes 10 seconds for you to change your life. You could turn your life around or make a step so big that it's a leap. You could save someone's life or take your own. In April, I gave you my heart. It took me one second to make that leap. It took me one second of insane courage and loss of all common sense to kiss you.

Questions that I want to ask you but never will.

There are so many questions that I want to ask when you told me you were meeting him.

Do you think of me when you hold his hand?
Is mine smaller than his?
Does he know or remember how your skin is smooth like marble,
as if the marble itself were hand picked by Gods himself.
Does his hand feel any different than mine?
Does his feel rough like all the work that he says he is supposedly doing
or is mine rougher from all walls that I had to climb through to get to you.
Does it feel like you're holding onto him or
does it feel like he doesn't want to let you go?
Does he look at your hands when you're holding his?
Does he hold onto your hands so tightly
that he feels like you might slip away and never come back?
Does he feel as lucky as I do when I am with you?

Then, I realize that you always hug him.
Does he smell of cologne?
Do you feel like your problems are fading away when you bury yourself in his arms?
Do you remember me?
Do you ever compare the way we held you?
Was I ever too tight? Or too eager? Were my shoulders broad enough for you?
Am I at the back of your head as he wraps his arms around you?
Does he ever realize when you are slipping away?
I remember, the way you turn your head sidewards
while you put your hands against my chest to pull away.
I remember how your eyes were dead.
I remember how you talked to everything around you but me,
and I had to play it off like I didn't mind.
Does he try to make any hug last longer? Does he try like I do?
Does he feel as happy when he is with you as I do?

And you cautiously told me that you kiss him.
Do you look at him the way you look at me?
Does he notice how your eyes can sparkle in low light?
Does he notice how you laugh when he pulls you in for another kiss?
Do you remember me when his lips grazed across yours?
Kissing you felt like kissing flower petals.
I wonder if you ever felt the exact way for him before you did for me.
Do you look at him the way you still looked at me?
Does it feel wrong to kiss two people the way that you do?

And when you told me, you still tell him that you love him..
Shit, that sucked.
It really did.
I felt that my chest was ripped open, my heart taken out,
only to have it shoved back in through my ribcage.
Do you tell him those three words before you go to sleep?
Does he say it back?
Do you mean it when you say it to him?
Do you think of me every time you say it to him?
You have deemed him worthy of those words.
Was I not enough to be more than a secret?
Do you think about the last time that you will say it to him?
What about me?
Have you ever meant it when you told me you love me?

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.

Crazy.

I don't know what's going on in my head. I have been feeling so much rage. I feel like I might explode. If it's not rage, I want to die. The smallest things make me explode. I am in between the scale of not caring and caring. When I care, I am aware of how mad I get when things don't go accordingly.

The problem is, I have noticed that I have been losing my temper more and more over the weeks. This is evident with my relationship. I yell and shout. Now that I am level-headed, I am so scared of what I might be capable of when I am in the middle of a rage because I have seen what I can do in my head. Given that situation, I really really do not care if I killed them. The phrase "killed someone in a rage" is true. I am scared.

Something is wrong with me. I knew that before but right now, something is seriously wrong with me. When I get mad now, I fly into a rage almost always. This hasn't happened before. Yes, I become unreasonable but I was never anywhere close to this kind of rage. The worst part is that my logical part says "Look, this is a reasonable situation, there's no need to be mad" but the emotional part doesn't listen to it. I just get angrier and angrier. I feel it grow inside of me but I have no control over it.

I feel scared because I don't know what is going on with me. I feel scared because I don't want to end up hurting someone I love.