I ordered this personalized name necklace weeks ago- yes for myself, because I can. I mean, it’s okay to do that, right? If I can buy myself a cheap necklace because it’s cute and I just want to, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s still special.
It’s sweet if someone else could think of it and do it for me. But I will not wait for anyone to come so I could have a special necklace, what if nobody comes? Whenever I wear a bracelet or a necklace or any sort of jewelry, there will always be someone who would ask me “who bought you that?”. I mean, can’t I buy it for myself? Are jewelries supposed to be form of gifts to other people?
I’m sorry for being a mess.
I’m sorry because I’m coward.
Sorry I wasn’t thinking about it properly.
Sorry it made you tired.
I’m Sorry that I push you away.
Sorry that you felt terrible.
It doesn’t go away. Guilt. Although all throughout this time I wanted to say thanks, I’m not sure it’s appropriate because all I’ve been causing are scenes worth apologizing.
But it says there, Don’t apologize for simply existing and… I don’t know if I made any sense here. I’m tired.
Believe it or not, I am not traveling. It was just the view on our way from the seminar I attended since Tuesday. It was a 4-hour-drive and luckily the weather had been good.
It was serene and peaceful. I felt infinite.
And because it was time to chase the sunset!
Who could have thought, working and sight seeing could be hit at once?
P.S: I was not driving.
Remember the time when I posted this picture of Doctor Mike with his unreadable tattoo on his back and I was so curious to know? I saw it now, CLEARER and readable.
I’m just glad I finally saw it. And know the meaning 🙂
It’s hard to explain why I didn’t write for the whole year of 2015. I’m recalling the main reason why, but I know there wasn’t a single reason. There were plenty little reasons I can pinpoint but I don’t have the sole reason. Did you ever feel that, like losing your desire to voice out what you think and what you want to say?
I did. And it was that year. I lost my love for writing. I lost the satisfaction of letting it all out in one sitting, with your fingers spontaneously moving with your brain. I’ve been numbed by many difficulties I had to face at that age where I needed the comfort most: a parent’s health deteriorating, betrayal of a close friend, betrayal of the person I love, lies from trusted people, family misunderstandings, my own health going down, and my grades little by little failing. I had to endure it all by myself because I shut myself away from people trying to reach out to me.
I declined care from most of the people because I didn’t know who to trust anymore. I pretended I was okay, it was the best escape. I was making surface interaction with most of the people because I felt that once I let them in, I was giving them the opportunity to destroy me. In short, I had to shut down to save myself. It was a hard time. But it worked that way. I kept my nose above the water. I could still breathe.
I tried writing, but I never felt okay. Eventually I stopped. For that whole year.
Because I know me. I know how this brain thinks. And I most definitely know the contents of my heart. I am passionate and loving and loyal and honest, and these traits were also the reasons why I let myself destroy me.
How did I get up? How did I start to open up again? How did I realize it’s time to stop and start again?
I don’t really have the answer. I guess, time just healed the pain, it wasn’t a total healing, but it healed. And there was it: acceptance and forgiveness. I was so tired of the same cycle over and over again. I was so tired to be that girl shutting down her environment. I was so tired that of that set up. And I was so tired to be alone.
And I started reaching out. I accepted help and I craved for it. And slowly, it made little things better. I went running. I tried the adult coloring books. I focused on my music. I learned new arts and crafts. And I started writing. And it felt good. And it helps. And it’s safe.
I’m kinda afraid to repeat the same thing now. With these life dramas I constantly face from time to time, it is suffocating. It’s the same feeling two years ago. But I decided not to go with the same path again. I’ve been through the dark and I know I’m scared of it.
Because I believe, we accept the love and care and needs we deserve. And it’s all fair in this kind of war.
It works this time. And I couldn’t be any happier because it has been there for a long time now. I’m glad it worked this time. Finally. It’s getting over.
If I only knew that this is the way to prevent sprouting of unwanted hormones from me, I should have done this before. I should have stopped. I should never even encourage the thought of it. Only if I knew this better, I should never even try.
But, what’s said is said, what’s done is done. It is useless to go over it again and wish to change it. Only now is what I have in my hand and it’s an opportunity to make things better… to make things right.
Because it had been this way all the time. Life will still go on. I’ve witnessed that. You’d be okay without me because I saw that. You still have plenty of others. You wouldn’t even notice I’m not actually there. And if it’s with me that all I have is you, I think I could remedy that on my own later. I know it would be lonely being on my own, but it’s better than to be there but feels like you’re not even there. This is for the better.
Maybe someday, maybe after life, we would be born again and maybe, just maybe, that time will be for you and for me.
Because right now. It isn’t. It will never be. And I think that’s for the better.