The first day I laid my eyes on you, I fell. Like a lightning, you shook my heart. I never looked at you cause it made me feel awkward.
I never speak whenever you’re near because of I’m afraid you might know my true feelings. I always avoiding every conversation about you and when I see you coming I can’t walk.
Every time the door opens I wish it was you. Make myself busy just to make sure I will not look back, I might swallow my saliva when you caught me and it will be obvious.
Pretend to smile when there is a girl beside you but dying deep inside. I was so down when I know there’s already someone in your heart. I will never beg for any hope or miracles to happen just bring me back my heart on me again.
These days, writing is all about gut wrenching pieces and I guess it is what it is. I feel like there’s something I should have done a long time ago, which is saying goodbyes to people who left me. Losing friends is part of the process called “life” and I played the game, being a good soldier and all. But for the past two months, it’s been clear that I am currently at one of the major crossroad of my life, and I think it’s time for me to let go and say goodbye to some. Here we go.
M- you supported me when I was having one of the toughest, most miserable minutes of my life. I remember the great laughs we had, how for almost two years we sent each others incredible exchanges through whatsapp, and how we had crushes on the same actors. You are one of the person I had the most fun with, and I genuinely thought I didn't expect anything from you. But when we were supposed to meet for real, you didn’t show up, and the few faith or trust I had left crumbled down because you were there, each nights, until you weren’t. No explanations except that time healed that wound and I hope you’re happy, whoever you are today.
M- god, you were my best-friend. I thought we were the same, being aries and bold like that. The minute you took off to NY, you literally flew from my life. I wasn’t being honest with myself thinking it was alright before you left. But the distance made it obvious. Now, you’re building a family and you’re still vibrant, beautiful. I’m not angry anymore. It’s just sometimes, I wonder why I ever thought we were the same, because we are not. Definitely not. I guess I’m still fucking naive and loyal to the ones I trust, which are few. We are both stubborn assholes. We just took different roads, and I don’t regret a single thing, even being your best-friend for a decade, even if it means that I was alone.
B- you’re the definition of a troubled girl. I never judged you and I still don’t. Something must have happened, something out of my fucking control, and you decided to suddenly never ever talk to me again. We had fun, and we grew to be better versions of ourselves together, I believe. I hope you find what you are looking for your heart in South America or wherever you feel like you want to explore. B, if you ever read this, trust me, you’ll be happy and free. Never stop believing that the better is yet to come. I’ll believe it for you if you can’t.
E- i thought you were my soulmate. I’m stupid like that. And I think you broke me a little bit. My therapist said that the text you sent me, my emotional answer to it, it was a sort of break-up. You were the only damn person I thought with utterly confidence that I would attend the wedding of, hold your baby one day or just be friends forever. I respected you the hardest. I loved you so much, because you were always there in a miles away kind of logic, but still. You knew my shit. You quoted me Charles Xavier ou Tyrion Lannister when I was feeling down. You loved ART and always had the most classy sense of everything. Then, suddenly, you’re not here anymore. Would I not have a sense of my worth and my dignity, I don’t know... I’m a fucking queen. I’m royalty. Maybe I saw a lie where I wanted to see respect, or a meaningful friendship. I don’t know anymore the value about what we had, but for sure I know my own value. I think that kind of way, I’ll forever miss you. It’s new for me, to feel that way about someone. But I’ll learn and I’ll grow, and this is my goodbye to you.
Now it’s written, I can emotionally move on. I did move on, don’t get me wrong. I feel like Robyn from High Fidelity! I did not make a playlist about them though so I guess it’s alright. But all these people did not let me have actual conversations to ask whys and hows. So this is how I break the wheel and fucking do my thing.
I find it so difficult to be honest about my feelings on here, or sharing posts about my reality because it is hard to accept out aloud something that breaks my heart almost everyday.
It doesn't matter how I look at things, I find it hard to remember everything without the reminder of what had happened. But I am grateful that Allah has given me the strength to move on from it and find some peace and solace.
I think if I ever have enough courage to talk about it, you might begin to understand why I hold onto Allah so close and how I never hope to misplace all of my love and hope in anyone other than Him.
when my crushes didn't like me back or started dating others, it honestly hurt. it's the hurt that leads me to eating a bunch of ice cream cones during the cold season and staying up late looking for a fictional character or a kpop idol to replace them. but when i intensely argued or “broke up” with friends, hurt was an understatement. it was nights of crying to the point that i have to change my pillow covers. it was realizing we both never took enough pictures (actually, there will never be enough pictures. ever.). it was not being able to touch ice cream cones during the hot season. it was empty gazes in the campus hallways because everywhere is where you two whispered gossips or funny stories to each other. it was empty hearts. my lips would find it difficult to even fake a smile. it was feeling like the weeks are black and white, murky. it was always wondering how to fix things. it was staying up late but there's no fictional character or kpop idol that can ever replace a friend so instead, there's drafts of letters addressed to said friend piled on top of each other — stacked in my phone's notes app, gathered in a folder in my laptop, messy on top of my study table. hurt is an understatement. it feels like losing someone you actually thought you'd never lose. it's heartbreak. it's red strings being cut. it's getting lost in the grocery store. it's accidentally buying pork buns for two. it's overwhelming loneliness and grief. it's realizing that the future you two have written together will never happen. it's missing their touch so much and no, you're not exaggerating. you really miss their touch. when you lose a friend, it's like the whole world is against you and the one you've always been with against the world is no longer there.
The first night he cried. Cried out her name in the abyess that seemed to be the world. Welcomed the night with cat eyes but never did he long for it. Glimpses of her he caught in every red thread. Fear fed on his soul. Fear feasted fervently.
The second night he ached. Ached the fingers pointed at his love. Ached the hotness detaining his thoughts. Thoughts of her. Clenched he the fabric of the bed where once he had her in firm embrace. At him, pique peeked pitilessly.
The third night he walked. Walked back two steps he had taken with her. Retraced them, alone. Most vividly the touch of her lips he recalled. Her lips against 'sa pomme Adams'. Once it made him swallow but now it only burnt. Her whispers whistled wistfully.
The forth night he sought. Sought her urgently in others. Her ghosts were fading away and vague was the memory of her touch. In all the urgency he locked eyes with gold, mistook it for the scarlet he once had owned. He choose change chivalrously.
The fifth night he bargained. Bargained with love. Seeds of marigold in exchange of a scentless rose. Took the marigold home and beautified her with love all the while made the portraits of the rose gaze at her. A risky revenge renewed reams o ruin relentlessly.
Whenever many people hear about abuse of boys and men, they simply think of the times they read news items about young boys being molested by older men or how men have been abused by others. This, however, isn’t all there is to the subject. I dare say a lot of guys have been abused and don’t even know it. This is because of our narrow perception of what abuse is. The saddest part about this side…