Dear You,
I admit it. I was never good at this love thing. The vulnerability.
And I'm sorry if I messed with your emotions, if I went hot then cold, and never seemed to be fully interested. I never thought of it as a game, I was never playing. I was simply a naive girl whose heart raced when you came around, who thought you'd understand my smile. I thought it would all eventually happen, fall into place without me having to work for it... because you would. I'm sorry for being a coward, for doubting every kind intention and envying everyone else you talked to. I'm sorry I couldn't be the bold girl who'd rock your world and make life easy.
I just barely believed it true, me and you, because who am I anyway. Who am I to catch your attention? I'm nothing special, just a goofy gal with crazy dreams. I don't have a fun life, no extensive knowledge of movies or tv shows, nothing. But you, you're all of that and you've snatched your dream, so why me. Now? What's the point. I'm sorry for barely believing in any of this. I'm sorry we'll never enjoy what could have happened, left to forever wonder what if.
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. Sorry for confusing you, ignoring you, hurting you. A million excuses cannot deny the truth. I was too passive. I didn't try enough. I messed up. And now, that initial spark is gone.
So let's stop ruining each others day. Agreed?
Cheers to the end of a non-existent, barely formed relationship.
Amidst all of the emotions, there must be some damn lesson to be learned. For now, I can't stop thinking I wish I knew you better. I wish I could have held you, with the reassurance of some mutual understanding. I wish I could have called you mine.
So long to those fantasies, it's time to face reality. You're not and will never be mine.
Just promise me one thing. When you're out there making history, falling in love, and being an overall amazing person, remember us and laugh. Two silly teenagers unable to figure this love thing out. It's rather humorous, in some bittersweet way.
Sincerely,
Anonymous
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
Just me.
I don't know how to start this blog post, and honestly I shouldn't even be writing anything because it's 8:30 and there's a pile of untouched work to be done. But as usual, I defy my priorities and instead feel a great need to write something from the heart per say.
I could easily write in my diary instead of typing a personal essay and posting it online, but for some reason I'm digging this method more. Maybe it's because the idea of an international network of thoughts and words is thrilling and I want to contribute. Or perhaps I simply feel like I'm using my time for "a greater cause" when I click publish. Either way, writing is cathartic and I could use all the mood boosters out there. So here it goes.
People say I am lucky to live in an idealic neighborhood, a house. To have parents still married. They say I am happy all the time, that I am smart, talented, pretty, perfect. But no one sees the girl that is awake in her bed worrying about everything that has or will go wrong. The girl who stares at her reflection, unable to see beauty, and everyday lines, shades, and buffs her face into one that she is satisfied with. The one who doesn't remember how to relax.
They don't see the anguish of having parents who have given up on each other. Or the way she never fights for the love she wants. How scared she is of losing someone.
People see the image that we portray. The one that we build like a wall to hide our insecurities and fears. I am exhausted trying to mask my imperfections and hide my unhappiness.
So tonight, I am keeping it all raw. Real.
Recently, I have been terrified of crushed dreams. Of disappointing others. I am terrified that my workaholic state will prevent me from enjoying the little things and that my life will be full of never ending disappointments. Simply put, today has not been a good day and everything seems to be crumbling.
But I like to end blogs on a positive note. Though crying is a great way to let emotions out, soaking in the misery is a waste of time and plain unhelpful. I have no idea what my intent for this blog was, but hey, not everything has to have a purpose. Sometimes, we just go with it, and see where we end up. Hopefully, it's a somewhere wonderful.
I could easily write in my diary instead of typing a personal essay and posting it online, but for some reason I'm digging this method more. Maybe it's because the idea of an international network of thoughts and words is thrilling and I want to contribute. Or perhaps I simply feel like I'm using my time for "a greater cause" when I click publish. Either way, writing is cathartic and I could use all the mood boosters out there. So here it goes.
People say I am lucky to live in an idealic neighborhood, a house. To have parents still married. They say I am happy all the time, that I am smart, talented, pretty, perfect. But no one sees the girl that is awake in her bed worrying about everything that has or will go wrong. The girl who stares at her reflection, unable to see beauty, and everyday lines, shades, and buffs her face into one that she is satisfied with. The one who doesn't remember how to relax.
They don't see the anguish of having parents who have given up on each other. Or the way she never fights for the love she wants. How scared she is of losing someone.
People see the image that we portray. The one that we build like a wall to hide our insecurities and fears. I am exhausted trying to mask my imperfections and hide my unhappiness.
So tonight, I am keeping it all raw. Real.
Recently, I have been terrified of crushed dreams. Of disappointing others. I am terrified that my workaholic state will prevent me from enjoying the little things and that my life will be full of never ending disappointments. Simply put, today has not been a good day and everything seems to be crumbling.
But I like to end blogs on a positive note. Though crying is a great way to let emotions out, soaking in the misery is a waste of time and plain unhelpful. I have no idea what my intent for this blog was, but hey, not everything has to have a purpose. Sometimes, we just go with it, and see where we end up. Hopefully, it's a somewhere wonderful.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Shadowed Thoughts
Shadows loom in every corner of this house,
remnants of the unforgotten past.
They haunt the inhabitants, suffocating
break the fragile carefully built triangle,
until all that's left are fragments too shattered to be mended.
And they won't leave, these shadows never leave
They exist in the broken insults spit with venom
The lingering, hateful silence.
They torment us until all good pure memories
are gone forever.
Only silence now. As if this house is some divided country.
No more screams, arguments, soar throats-- no more fight
because they gave up. She on him. He on her.
Shattered glass sprawled on the floor they once danced on,
Dreams of everlasting joy rot in untouched corners,
Soft tears dry into numb acceptance.
Nothing to do now but soak in the eternity of a failed marriage.
So this is what broken love feels like.
remnants of the unforgotten past.
They haunt the inhabitants, suffocating
break the fragile carefully built triangle,
until all that's left are fragments too shattered to be mended.
And they won't leave, these shadows never leave
They exist in the broken insults spit with venom
The lingering, hateful silence.
They torment us until all good pure memories
are gone forever.
Only silence now. As if this house is some divided country.
No more screams, arguments, soar throats-- no more fight
because they gave up. She on him. He on her.
Shattered glass sprawled on the floor they once danced on,
Dreams of everlasting joy rot in untouched corners,
Soft tears dry into numb acceptance.
Nothing to do now but soak in the eternity of a failed marriage.
So this is what broken love feels like.
Hello 2015, bye to rotting resolutions
A new year is always bittersweet. Bitter because 2014 is officially over, showing just how time sweeps us further and further into the future. Sweet because it feels new, exciting, fresh.
I am not making new years resolutions because they never carry out. Instead, I am a strong advocate of consistently making goals throughout the year, whether it's January, March, October, etc. With that said though, I have started a little project for this year: a jar of happiness, aka "goodie jar". It's going to be filled with memories of a random happy day, a special event, goals accomplished, and all that. A happy jar. Very excited to begin this documentation of everything great that happens this year. It's a way to not only look back and remember great memories, but also something that will motivate me to experience new activities and create happiness in my life. Finding every bit of joy in a normal day will be uplifting, and a damn great way to live.
Though new years are often overrated, full of spur of the moment resolutions, they are also reminders of improvements that can be made. Like a cold splash of water that awakes you from a zombie state of being. They scream at us to take charge of our lives or else another uneventful, dry year will pass before we can say "stop".
So before another year slips away, let's make opportunities, soak in all that this place has to offer, and enrich the world with our personalities, thoughts, and dreams.
It's a new year. How will yours turn out?
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