I may have made it look so easy because I didn’t want the people around me to feel like my problems were creating unnecessary tension in their lives. And that’s why I choose to be on my own during my hardest because I honestly don’t think, (I know would be more accurate) that there is a single person out there who understands or can even relate to the shit I go through every fucking day (not disregarding the fact someone out there might be going through worse). And why should I expect someone else to understand something even I can make little sense off? I only understand what I feel not why I  feel what I feel, and I try to deal with that on my own. It’s honestly more favorable to everyone I know because my entire presence is an embarrassment even though I don’t act like it. That way I don’t have to sit through conversations like yes people talk shit about you but I tell them you’re my friend and you are a nice person and that is all that matters to me. By doing this you are admitting to the fact that everything everyone is saying is true and yet I am so nice to keep her as my friend despite what the world thinks of her, a truly heroic act which I don’t need to be a part of. Keep your pity and save it somewhere I can’t see because I don’t need it. But oh so nice of you, thank you.

And I’ll miss you and I’ll think about all the conversations we could be having without knowing your reality. All I would know is what I’m feeling is magnetic and I keep wanting more of what it could be but then it turns out to be nothing more than a few passing clouds but not just cloud nine and I’m not on either one. In the last page I’m crying my way way home while being rained on by mocking clouds in this beautiful gown I wore just for you. My mind created something so beautiful out of your existence I had to know for sure how real it was and turns out it was nothing but a bad portrait of a sketch I’d been fantasizing of. You showed up with her and the party is over because she’s got you hasn’t she? I’ve got my mascara running and I can’t look like this not in front of you. Let me go before these tears stain my face. But let me look for you once more, I turn my head to see the way you re looking at her to convince my heart you were never mine. I hear my heart skip a beat and I can feel it’s uneasiness in my chest. Like it wants to be ripped off my chest and squeezed at least that would rid me of this heartbreak.

Every time you ask for more, you drive me miles away. What you failed to realize was what you had was more than I would give anyone and that wasn’t enough. 

28 January 2018

The picture I have in my head of myself is being curled into a corner while life goes by. This sadness will never end. But I might.

My life is eating me up and not in a picture perfect way. In a less dramatic and agonizing way. Like, I don’t wanna wake up tomorrow and find out what might happen. I no longer want to find out what more there is to this. I’ve had enough and battled enough. In my head echoes voices accusing me of victimizing myself and being selfish. But if I were to decide for myself without feeling obliged for other people’s opinions, I’d say I’d been an open book. I’ve been genuine and honest about myself. I might’ve lied, I might’ve cheated. But I’ve never lead on something on a lie. I’ve always ended things after I’ve found myself no longer worthy of the commitment. I’m in no way defending my wrongdoings, I’m just trying to tell myself I’m not as horrible as the picture I’ve drawn in my head. There’s so much of me I could love if I just ignore some words spoken by people to ruin my will to live.

It’s not a never ending circle. The circle stops somewhere. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back..

These days, I can’t find the words anymore. All I know is I’m tired. Scared too. I feel stuck. The independent and strong person I was, I am no more.

I know you loved me. And I also know I hurt you. And I thought you forgave me. But today I know you really didn’t. And even though you made me believe you loved me the same, despite how undeserving of it I was, it’s not the same. I’m a fool to have thought it would be too. Here’s the thing. I tried. And I know that’s not how it should be. You shouldn’t be trying. It should be there.

I value myself, even if I’ve lost my worth I value me, or at least what’s left of it. And I can’t continue this feeling like what you’ve made me feel. It’s selfish alright, as I fail to understand how you chose to be with me and still see me as the girl who betrayed you. You know you deserve better. I do too. What I’ve done, it’s all on me. What’s happened to me, that’s all on me too. And I should be able to take care of myself. I don’t need you to be there, pretending to care about me when you really don’t. I should be able to do this, for myself.

I refuse to be your compromise.

I have to apologize to my body, for what I’ve done to it over the years. Never thinking twice of what it would do in the long run.

I also have to apologize to my mental health. For sticking with people who put me through a mental hell too often.

I’d like to apologize to my life for choosing all the wrong people for all the wrong reasons and wasting the best years of my life making bitter memories.

In life, sometimes you come across a man. Who’s a little bit of everything. A little bit of a lover, a little bit of a mentor, a little bit of your compass, a little bit of a heart breaker, someone who guides you through your life and helped you grow. Maybe not with the best intentions, but when you really needed a shoulder to cry on, there he was, to hold you and make love to you. And that was just what you needed. I suppose. Yet you end up broken anyhow, because what they are to you is never what you are to them. Fragile, lost, unwanted. There was really nothing attractive about who I was other than my face.

And years later, I am thankful. For letting me in every time I showed up at his doorstep in tears. For the times I refuged in his bed because the world outside was a horror. 

What I am not thankful is, for having to learn that all girls are pretty girls and you are not any fucking special. But the lesson I am thankful for even though I cried all the way home. 

If it weren’t for you, my world wouldn’t have been the same. You helped me and while doing so you messed me up even more. But, so nice to have met you.

I need a moment, a moment to unsee, unfeel, unlive and to let my invisible tears dry. It was going to be a no you year. Not your face, not your name, no you altogether.

No, you did not deserve it. NO. It is not your fault. No. Just NO. 

I am sorry this happened, but people who love you won’t love you any less just because of what happened, or what he did to you. No. The world will not always remember, but you will never forget. And don’t expect people to make excuses for your poor decisions because of something that happened. We are all naive and too trusting before we learn our lessons. You will never be okay, I am sorry but you must know. Give yourself time, a lot of time. Don’t dwell in what you can’t change as that would only weigh you down. You are still beautiful, but now you are a warrior. 

Nobody is born fucked up, we are all born children. Children who learn and grow according to what they have been shown and taught. And one day, you are 24 you begin asking why, what have I done for it to be like this?

Maybe it is too late to ask this. Maybe I should’ve reflected on my life when I had the chance to do something about it. But not everyone is lucky enough to have a clear perspective on their lives. I certainly wasn’t. It was either too much for me to even begin thinking about it or I did’t have the courage to let things sink in. I was shattering with every chapter of my life. I had to shake off the feeling and pretend it didn’t happen. I couldn’t go on any other way. It was either cry about it or do something about it. And I did. I did so many things. But none of those things are things I would’ve done in my right mind. And when you are here, right where I am today. I don’t think you would trust yourself enough to have the right mind. 

Someone is responsible. A lot of someones. Here is looking at you, all of you. Thank you and just fuck you, you know what you did.

You’re bullied into thinking you are not good enough. The first person whom you trust outside your routine life breaks your trust and heart. And you spend next good months wondering why, it is far too long to wonder why someone decided to not be with you. When you are fourteen, full of innocence with nothing but love and have done nothing wrong, you can’t help but think you weren’t good enough, or beautiful enough in a world full of other million beautiful and good people. 

I remember distinctly the first time someone called me a whore, her exact words were “low life whore”. This came in via text, from the woman the first guy I went on a date with was in a relationship with. I was fourteen and had no idea he had a girlfriend. Her words and his deception could be where I began to look down on myself, with no fault of my own. And as I grew, more people gave me reason to believe so.