A colleague asked, “Who made you stop loving?”
Person or two. Or three… or some more.
Few minutes ago, out of sheer assholery of Facebook, I was reminded.
But I don’t want to look back anymore.
Not angry nor sad, just no intention of continuously take steps backwards.
And even if my heart… my heart would want to cling to past.
There’s no use looking back.
How come people…how come I have this great longing for past grief?
Sometimes the pain don’t weigh as much but there’s a space for it.
There’s a gap that you cannot fill with joy and abundance.
There’s a space left unfilled you let an old scar stay.
Today, I catch up with an old, barely relevant scar.
Only because the new tissue hasn’t fully developed.
I know the new hello will cause nothing but prolong the replacement.
But this is a human process.
And as much as I hate it, I acknowledge its existence.
And hope somewhere along this process of taking one step forward, two steps back…
I will somehow …eventually reach my full stop and trace the outline of my healing point.
I’m super exhausted from work today but it is scary cos it’s my favorite kind of high.
The fulfillment I get…like an andrenaline rush.
I wonder if people feel the same way?
I wonder what version others have?
I’m struggling to find other facets in life that can give me such vibe. I know there’s more to life than this.
There are tiny versions like helping others or coffee picking or wandering but it is not as “makes-me-oblivious” kind.
I’m struggling to find ways to heal the hurt.
I’m struggling to find means to forget.
The days filled with bruises outlived the bliss
Each waking day turns into nostalgia
Reliving the unfinished “IT”
Regrouping all my false belief
Opening and closing each day become the hardest
They remind me so much of my defeat
Even as I recreate my days and crack in laughter
Thoughts suddenly seep and quickly, I just go back in bleak
I smile and smile right in front of the people who love me
The people who wishes to make me happy, but the sadness haunts me
I see you in every car, in every city
Your ghost won’t just leave
My mind has decided it is not worth it,
I know I should have long taken a flight
It’s clear you arent my knight
My mind’s made up but my heart…
My heart is still crawling from the dark alley now branded with fright.
It is in our most emotional, vulnerable state that we pen our best or worst love letters.
But through this we find healing.
When our mind’s in constant battle with our heart and the forces beyond our control, writing becomes the safest option.
It is when we forget about those who might read our sighs and be judged are overpowered by our need to release all the pain.
Likes sketches, like half-finished drafts
We write and write until the world becomes different.
We will write and write in pain
Until the words turn into better emotions
We drop each bitterness bomb
Until we’re visited again by life-changing inspirations.
This could be a little less eloquent as I am writing in a strange fashion such as spontaneity.
I am not one.
It is so soothing for me whenever I have all things clearly defined.
And today, and in the days to come, I may have to jump to uncertainties.
All brilliant articles are saying things will be fine.
Confusion and being lost are good for the soul.
Hundreds and hundreds of assuring words.
Still, I remain terrified.
And as the hasty sunset kiss the dusk.
I quietly plead for light.
With only hope is the star from afar
I jump and dive and take the flight.
Cos in between the fear and fright
I hear my heart whisper,
There’s no other way to see the dawn but to endure the passing of the night.