My fragile heart, it wanders and wonders.

Been surrounding myself with darkness except for that hint of light piercing my window as the sun comes up. Sunlight hasn’t touched my skin in days. I’m not pale, or sad. I’ve been sad before, this isn’t sad. This is defeat.

Keeping myself busy with strangers who will listen to my tales of you, hoping that I miss you a little less with every passing day. I don’t have the energy or the time to keep missing you.

I tell myself I’m fine. I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything now. Like a band-aid, you ripped yourself off off me, in slow agony, leaving a mark of where you once used to be.

I shall not cry. I shall not weep. I shall not reminisce.
I tried my best.

Fooled myself into thinking someone out there could look past my flaws. My flaws are no longer flaws, they’ve become parts of me. And if you can’t love them, I will love the hell out of them and get me the life I deserve. All I needed was you to hold my hand while I got where I wanted to be.

I’m wired to my independence. I’m wired to making the right choices despite constraints, and that’s the only way I know how great a deal this person means for me. Instead of letting me make my choices, having to mould into their idea of perfection would only confuse me. For me, I don’t do well in boxes. It’s not the cutting people off precisely but the whole idea of being restricted. I do better in freedom. I believe in freedom instead of labels. Letting them roam, and hoping they find their way back to you, over and over, every day, forever. That is my idea of love. And if they lose their way, they won’t be the person for me. But the whole idea of suffocating the other person to choose you, won’t sit with me. I have been there, I won’t be there again. Maybe my flawed idea of love is evolving into even a more liberal version.

And for some this may seem like my un-willfulness to compromise, I think it is that I’ve refused to put myself in a box. I need more faith and trust from the person I decide to give my all to.

Did I just give up on something that could’ve made me happy?

I lost myself in my past relationship, I won’t lose myself again.

Helpless in the face of love. Love might not be for me after all. My guess is the past several relationships have flawed my idea of love. And I can’t help but look for what soothes me. Something effortless, something that falls around my body like sheer lace, something comfortable, transparent with a hint of mystery and light, but also looks so good on me.

Since none of my past relationships have been ideal, how do I identify the amount of work that might go into the right one? How do I let something consume me when I don’t know just how much it contains? I just don’t know anymore. Finding someone who makes you laugh and a million other things just isn’t enough. There’s all this baggage I carry that no one should deal with, but I’m finding it hard to declutter. Will no one ever love me for me, for all the things my past lovers have made me? For all my scars and all my flaws.

Falling shortly behind my lover devout, I wish I knew why. Perhaps, not everything is meant to be understood. Perhaps, love just isn’t for me.

Or if I’m really lucky, it’s all in my head and everything is fine. Or perhaps, only intense therapy can fix certain patterns.

How I wish things were simpler.

What’s done is done. We’ll continue to live with our scarred selves and do the best we can with whatever’s left of us. That’s all we can do.

It’s not easy being with someone who carries someone else in their heart. It’s even harder when you know a part of you often thinks of another too. But despite all, we’ve both made commitments to one another, to see whatever this may be through. As we keep going, there are days where I feel like yes, this is it. And then there are moments of uncertainty where I’m like, what if this isn’t. What if this is another journey that will end, what if this is another stepping stone that will help us get to our destinies but without each other. What if this isn’t meant to be. What if we’re both barricading our fates by being caught up in something so momentary. Life is anything but predictable – every twist and every turn taking us to and from desires of intoxication. Yet, here we are taking chances on each other, praying it takes us away from our past lovers and to each other.

You reek of my pleasure, darling.

Your claws in my skin, my thighs on your rim.
Whispers of sin, for the longing since.

Something about the way old loves end, chills my soul. One day you wake up, and it is not there anymore. Yet you carry their rooted absence deep within your heart.

Some days getting out of bed itself is so hard to do. Some reasons are not even good enough to live another day, yet the amount of hopelessness I am currently drowning in is awful. I honestly do not know what to do. I do not know what I have done so wrong in life to be stumped this far down. I have always been hopeful, nothing has ever stopped me from going on, and that will not be changing today. But, today has been incredibly hard. Just one of those days where I need things to be fucking okay. I am not asking for much. I am only asking for a reasonable amount of stability. It has indeed been a year of dreaded chaos. And I am just so tired of deluding and lying to myself over and over because I am scared of facing the truth. I was hoping if I ignored it hard enough, it would go away. But it has not, and that too is not how it works. I need a break from life. All the worries and everything. Why do I feel like an absolute failure despite everything? Whose standards am I not meeting? Mine? Or what has been set for me by others? It has been incredibly difficult. And as insane as it may seem, I am so close to giving up. How long can one keep fighting against all odds?

Brilliant on paper yet homeless in reality. Don’t let me chase a dream, don’t let me chase something that just won’t be. Don’t seduce me with a love that isn’t yours to give away. Stop before love begins to lose its meaning. Stop before love becomes an obsession. Stop before you ruin my chances of actually being happy with someone who’d offer me the world in a blink. Not that you wouldn’t, but we know you can’t and it’s completely okay. I am okay with it.

Just, let me go. I can’t stay here anymore. It’s confusing my soul.