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Been bitter for a while now. Knew nothing would be fair in love & war but a part of me dared him to do what he did. Even though he promised me a living hell, I had my doubts on how far he would go to achieve that. And he did, he went all the way. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. I didn’t believe I deserved what happened to me or what he did to me. But maybe my detaching faith had a lot more to do with this than I’d thought. Started believing less and less in the good. Stopped caring about everything. And while all that was healthy for me, for my mind. It changed me into something I never wanted to be. I became one of those people I used to hate and say things about. The mean ones. The unhappy ones. The ones that are so bitter in life that they hardly believe in anything & see no good in this world. Throw around the harshest words without thinking about it twice, because what was the point. I had nothing to lose anymore. I’d lost the person I was. Had no faith. Saw no good, felt no good. Kept existing because death hadn’t claimed me just yet. I became more and more like him. I became exactly like the person who ruined my life. You’d think there couldn’t possibly be anything more to ruin, but there it was. The end of me. Why would he do that? What had made him so angry? I wouldn’t know. I’d never know. But I’m sure he, as well I, know that whatever I did I didn’t deserve it. In a way it had opened my eyes more, I’ve realized how selfish people are. More reasoning for my bitterness. Being nice wasn’t an option anymore, I was no longer a nice person. I was the girl who was weird and disturbed. Who fell in love with four guys a week. Who cheated on the love of her life. I was that girl. But who am I beneath all that? Not many know. But he did, he knew me apart from all that. He’s the one person who knew so much. He’s the only person I gave all of me. He was the only person who wanted all of me. Way before the hate kicked in. I learned to make my peace with everything that happened, tried to forgive myself for where I went wrong. Even though I could never forgive myself completely, I’ve never been untrue or pretentious to myself. I’ve never acted like something I wasn’t. I’ve always been true to myself. Even when people judge me for all of that, I think that’s one of the few things that make me who I truly am. I admit I am lost. Been lost for so long. Nothing made sense and nothing was clear. Everything was blurry and I tried to find my way but I kept going in circles in pitch dark.

Writing has been my way of looking back. I’m no writer, but I write to remember. To remember how a certain person or a place made me feel. When the years go by and we are both strangers I’ll have a piece of writing that’ll remind me of how I felt when I knew you, word to word. I love rereading old conversations and I definitely love going through old memories. I live to reminisce. What’s funny is, good memories and good times are found okay to be written about. But the bad ones aren’t. Ive never lived by the rules and I do not hesitate to write about the bad, ugly and horrible. Why only choose to look at the good when the bad exists equally? Why only remember the time you fell in love and not the time you barely survived of heartbreak. Why deny the amount of pain people cause you when you appreciate their presence. Do you not want to remember how you turned this cold? I do. Because I wasn’t like this. What I am today is someone I never thought I’d be, even as a person. I’m a wreck of what I used to be.
I don’t care about this world, I care about mine & that exists of me only.

I was a fool every time I thought I may have found someone to share this world of mine with. Hopeful blind and giddy, only to be shot down at the same old wound until I lay breathless. But that’ll never show. Because baby, this smile is all I’ve got and I ain’t losing this.

To love, you need to understand, you cannot love something you don’t understand. I’ve made my peace with this. I’m not for this world, I’m not for the people of this world. I’m my own and someday, I’ll be okay with it. Meanwhile I’ll love less and need less.

It is both blessing and a curse that life doesn’t allow me to stay here for too long or too often for that matter. If I did, I’d get attached to the place and the people here. And I’ve seen all too well where that leads. I am not running away from anything. Just not running into  anything either. Just running, not knowing where the run will end. Guess I’ll surprise myself in the end.

Meanwhile, everything I’m not attached to, and the things I could so easily leave behind, reminds me of all the things that I could be cherishing. I’m missing the opportunity of finding out, or what could’ve been if only. Terrified to do so. Why is this even a big deal, why does it hurt to feel so much.

That right there, that right there. When you convince someone it won’t be half that bad and get their hopes high. Only to let them down.

You may not be frail, but I am. That’s why I think everything through. Maybe too much, maybe too far. Because that’s the only way I know how, how to avoid being let down. But maybe this time, I forgot to think through. I thought it would be fun to explore. It’s not. It’s not fun and it never will be. Because I’ve explored enough and I know how things play out. I just keep forgetting and excusing myself. Because that’s what I am, I like taking risks. I like putting myself out there to test myself. To see what I can and what I cannot take. It hurts for a while but the pain goes away by morning. And everything’s alright again.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down
You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.
Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound.

We use people when we need them and dispose them when we no longer don’t. Something I’ve always hated about people. How can they be so selfish, play with someone’s so genuine feelings just like that, only because they are bored.

Only now, I’ve become one of those. And I don’t hate them anymore.

Happy 19th baby brother,

Looking back I can vaguely remember the first time I got to hold you.  Addu – June 06, 1997. When the nurse came and left you in my arms, I didn’t even know what to do. I had a brother and I didn’t know how to feel about this. ‘Cuz everyone had been telling me see now you’re gonna be left out and everyone’s gonna love your brother instead. No shit, there were people who told me this. They must’ve been joking but that shit wasn’t funny yo. Anyways. You were blue, like really red and blue. And bappa actually called you a Meedha, that wasn’t funny at all I know. He must’ve been reminded of those baby rats who’re all red when they were born. ‘Cuz you were all red too. Ahah. So so so so cute though. I just stared for at you for hours until you were taken from me.

Today, you’re nineteen. And that hurts. All grown up, sigh. I miss my baby brother. The one I used to call Aisthu ahahaha. (‘Cuz your name rhymes with it.) The one I used to fight with and bite ugh. I really do appreciate that you never bit me back though, even when I bit you all those times. I mean you would but then you were always very careful to never hurt me, even when I wasn’t. So thanks. Hahaha. The one I used to build forts with and make our own city with mattresses. The one I got to dress up and convince to put lipstick on. The tiny one I actually used to win fights against. The one I used to hide the PC cables from, and sit on when you annoyed me and made you cry and then felt horrible about it afterwards. Always. I really miss those times. I miss watching Friends and Vampire Diaries with you bugging me, and watching Arrow over ice cream. Those were good times.

Time has distanced us but that happens, but those memories of our childhood and any day together are definitely the most precious from my life. Really sorry though, for not being around enough.

Today, you’re nineteen and I’m so proud of you. Proud for all that you’ve achieved and all that you’re yet to aspire. Cheers to growing up and all the shit loads of responsibilities you’ll automatically be signing up for.

No matter how disappointing of a sister I may have been, I love you so much. And thank you, for always being the best brother around.

Love,

Dhontha.

What is it? What is it about the certain someone that you go like, who is he? Like how is he even a factor in my life? How do they become this without my approval? When I realize they matter, they’ve already come too close and I don’t wanna lose them but keeping them isn’t for me either. When is it never confusing!

We are all told to say no. No to the things we don’t want, and no to the people we don’t want. Basically NO is the code word that is SUPPOSED TO prevent you from being a part of anything you don’t want to be a part of. People make it sound like saying No will make it clear enough. Let me tell you something. It won’t. Not unless the monsters we know learn to listen to us and respect our boundaries.

I have said NO a couple of times. And I was ignored every time. I am a pushover by nature. Although the first time I said the word NO out loud to a person who was trying to get his hands on me was only recently. The other times I remember pushing them and running away only to find them coming after me and trapping me with nowhere to go. The pushing and running away was my no, was I not clear enough? was I not loud enough? Would he have stopped if I had screamed?

A question I’ve heard being asked too often to girls who’ve been in these situations is, ‘why didn’t you scream? did you like it? is that why you didn’t scream?’

Honestly, even I don’t have the answer. But what I know is, there are more important questions to be asked than why the fucking hell didn’t you scream for help. For instance, are you okay? How are you? And what kinda sick person thinks they didn’t scream out loud for help because they secretly enjoyed it? I mean guys they know the feeling they get when they’ve been jailed or mobbed, right. I mean because people apparently understand those situations more than these. Yeah, they are helpless, in that moment her whole world crashes down, stumbling, in slow motion. And they never recover from that, and they will never be able to tell another person how they felt in that exact moment because, nobody, nobody will understand. Not even herself.

Anyways, my recent occurrence. He was someone I’ve liked for the longest time. He was decent, well-educated. Had a good job. And we’ve hung out a couple of times and I was sure he was one of the nice guys. So so sure. But damn was I wrong. I’ve come up with this new theory where you know, if you really wanna know what a person is like tell them NO when they most need a yes. And see if he’s understanding about it or a monster about it. See, I told him no. Told him I wasn’t feeling well. He was probably deaf ‘cuz he came on to me more vigorously than ever and almost suffocated me. I was so disgusted but hey this is someone I’ve approved. This is someone whom I thought was nice enough and could be trusted. So it’s my fault right?

He was a selfish, heartless and evil fucking monster behind all that politeness.

I have a tendency of longing for things and people that are longer a part of my life and that has become a habit by now, but for a once let me write about the ones I long for everyday and have never left my side. My five angels.

Being blessed with these wonderful souls for the past decade has made me a better person. They are the most influential people in my life even though they may disagree since I almost don’t ever listen to them, I mean I do. I seek advice and all but I always end up doing the exact opposite of what I’ve been advised. But they love me despite and that’s whats so great about them.

At the end of our school year we were supposed to work on a project together for Teachers Day, I don’t know why but the whole class didn’t work on it together. It was us and a few others. That’s how it all began. Late nights working on it & we had the most fun completing it. I guess we owe our friendship to Teachers Day since that’s what brought us all together.

We thought after Aminiya we’d part and find new friends and go separate ways. Well some did, but the five of us we stuck together. We were too fond of our school memories to let anyone go. Yes we grew up went through college started working and met tonnes of new people. But none of that beat what we had.

And then we met our Bubble. She’s a bliss. Her laughter is infectious. The most wonderful soul I’ve known. Don’t know what I’d or we would do without her. We were never classmates but she used to follow us around and was the cutest most badass thing!. She was cousins with one of us, and years into our friendship she became one of us too. Not just one of us. She became the pillar of us.

People think a group of friends only last if they are the same kind of people. But we aren’t. We are nothing, absolutely nothing like each other. We don’t always enjoy the same things but we’ll just laugh at whoever is sulking and compromise. Though we are the perfect balance, we’ve got a mother hen who’ll shush us if we are too loud or walk out of a crash car and pretend she doesn’t know us because she’s too embarrassed, and then we’ve got beauty and brains who’ll always help with splitting finances, and we’ve got a blonde who’ll laugh at the most inappropriate things but also make the most valid points, and then we’ve got the gold fish with the most creative ideas. And then there’s our bubble of love. They are all gems.

What I’m trying to say is, well if I didn’t meet them there’s like 100 % chance I’d have ended up a whole lot different. Probably dead. They made such a huge impact in my life.