You know that feeling when you’re just waiting, waiting to get home into your room, close the door, fall into bed, and just let everything out that you kept in all day, that feeling of both relief and desperation? Nothing is wrong, but nothing is right either, and you’re tired, tired of everything, tired of nothing, and you just want someone to be there and tell you it’s okay, but no one’s going to be there, and you know you have to be strong for yourself because no one can fix you. But you’re tired of waiting, tired of having to be the one to fix yourself and everyone else, tired of being strong, and for once, you just want it to be easy, to be simple, to be helped, to be saved, but you know you won’t be, but you’re still hoping and you’re still wishing and you’re still staying strong and fighting with tears in your eyes. You’re fighting.
Say hello to one-of-my-sleepless-night-selfie * tadaaa* Okay, this is probably my 3am self, messed up and difficult to handle. I have been dying a little every morning literally… or maybe not. Some things just hurts me even though that I’m used to the pain, every time I remember it it still gets me and it strangles my neck until I have no oxygen left in my body.
This is also a sembreak selfie.. I’ve been planning to do a lot of things this sembreak but it seems that I didn’t even become productive in my first 1 and 1/2 week.. But still, I want to settle things.
- don’t eat a lot of carbs
- learn to play new pieces
- sleep… a lot
- jog every night (which means jog when i’m in my mood)
- watch eternal sunshine of spotless mind
- write a new story
- clean my garbage looking cabinet
- practice playing basketball again
- learn new dance choreos
- don’t overthink
- don’t overthink
- don’t overthink
- don’t overthink
- and lastly, don’t overthink
Okay, that’s enough for this photo post with an irrelevant description
I just need someone like this right now. Right at this very moment. I need someone who would constantly remind me that I am worthy, that I am not just another lame shit that they have to deal with. I need someone who would want me even if there’s no reason to want me. I want someone who would act like I’m their cwtch. I want someone who would tell me that everything will be alright even if it’s not getting any better. I want someone who would make me believe that there will be a rainbow after the rain. I want someone who will sing me a melody when I no longer hear music. I want someone who would be there for me no matter what. I want this to happen even if it’s impossible. Chances are this will never happen but I’m still holding onto this chance.
Forget everything that I wrote; I just want you. I want you to want me.
“"That’s all right,” she says, and I have to wonder how many times she’s said that to the people in her life who screwed her over somehow.”
Long Hard Week
This week have been rough but I’m glad that we’re able to get through it. I’ve been crying every fucking night wishing that things could be better. I know that things will be better. I don’t know when but I hope it happens soon. I’m drowning but this time it’s not because of overthinking but these things are actually happening. Everything seems to go wrong and I have no one to rely on. I’ve been thinking that maybe, it’s time to be independent— to stand on my own.
I have a family financial problem and it’s ruining everything. My mom’s relationship to her siblings and her parents. I hope I can do something about it. I wish I could help mom about this matter, but I can’t. I can’t stand seeing her cry every night because of this fucking money that makes the world. Even if we deny this, it’s a fact, money is everything nowadays. Now, I just don’t know. I want to stop studying and just help her. I don’t know what’s going on with my life right now.
All I wanted was someone who could listen to me. But, I don’t know, I just realised that people get tired too. I will only add up to their problems. I should keep it to myself like a rascal with a dirty little secret.
Don’t you like you?
'Cause I like you..
Find me here, in your arms
Now I’m wondering were you’ve always been
And blindly, I came to you
Knowing you breath new life from within
Please find me.
Long handwritten letters will be the death of me. I mean, I love words even if I”m not good at it. I love hearing words like, “How are you?” and “I hope you’re fine.” I love how one cares for you even without saying the words that “I care for you.” because I strongly believe that actions speaks louder than words. But, letters are wonderful.
You make me happy. I wasn’t sure if that’s what it was, at first, but that wasn’t your fault. It was only because I wasn’t used to the feeling. I felt my shoulders unclenching and my face softening into a smile and I thought, “What is this? What’s happening? Am I turning into a werewolf or a fly or a blueberry?” But then, it kept happening. It happened when we first held each other’s hands at that tricycle where I kept looking at the moon and then you told me to watch out. I just woke up one day and I thought, “Is that what this is? Could I be… happy?”
You make me happy to talk to. I like when you call. I like when you text. I like when we argue. I like when you tease me. I like when I make you laugh. Your smile is a surprise every time I see it — it cracks onto your face like it shouldn’t be there and my heart lifts and takes flight like a little duck making its first attempts at leaving home. Your smile is everything — and I mirror it and my face feels fresh and new and hot. You make me sweat in that good, humming way — like after a particularly buzzing and relaxing run. We’re all addicts, but I need the warmth you give me. Even in the dark, you are the constellations in the black sky, the campfire in the woods, the firefly against the glass of the mason jar.
When you look at me, I mean, really look at me — eyes open and brown and focused — and you smile, really smile, like I’ve just done something wonderful and worthy — it’s the newest, the brightest, the happiest.
I’ve never wanted anything so much than to receive a letter from you. I’ve never wanted anything — as much as I want you.
“You didn’t love her. You just didn’t want to be alone. Or maybe she was good for your ego. Or maybe; maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn’t love her, because you don’t destroy the people you love.”
Maybe In Another Universe, I Deserve You
What if, in another universe, I deserve you?
Are you following? The entirety of space, time, matter and energy is all happening at once in different timelines: It’s the idea of parallel universes. Right? So okay, let’s presume the multiverse is real.
Well then, maybe somewhere in those infinite universes is one, or several, where I deserve you.
Maybe there’s a universe out there — happening now — where we end up together and when I close my eyes at night, I’m not dreaming the way a normal person would. Instead I’m seeing flashes of our lives in the multiverse. They’re not simple dreams because I miss you, right? They’re scientific, anachronistic visions.
In this universe, I don’t want a family, but maybe in another, I’m more of the type to settle down. Maybe there’s a universe where you hold my hand while I give birth to our daughter in a white hospital room with pink flowers and fuzzy teddy bears on the window sill. Where we take family vacations and pose for dorky pictures in our neon bathing suits on the sands of a Florida beach. Where we curl up to watch a cheesy movie at the end of a long day in our big, green, suburban house once the kids have fallen asleep.
Maybe there’s a universe where we are middle-aged and taking our child to college and bickering over where to put her dresser or what posters she should hang up. Where you kiss her on the forehead ‘goodbye’ and we drive home in contented, proud silence, your fingers grazing my knuckles, our wedding rings glistening. Where we both have gray hair and we laugh and smile and hug and drink lemonade on the porch.
Maybe there’s a universe where that’s the life I want. Where I don’t second guess everything and I’m not afraid of commitment and of the future and of love. Maybe there’s a universe without all the noise in my head and the pride that makes me so fiercely independent and the coldness in my heart that I can turn on and off like a security fence.
Maybe there’s a universe where I’m the right person for you. Where I adore every nice thing you did for me without starting to resent you. A universe where you actually end up with someone who appreciates you. Where no one becomes a doormat. Where both of us can shed our baggage and curiosity and issues. A universe where we’re happy — without wondering if that happiness is some messed-up Jenga game ready to topple at the slightest quiver. A universe where we’re comfortable and sure, and we have cats.
Maybe there’s a universe where we fall asleep next to each other every night like spoons, like two innocent bunnies — my face buried in your neck, hugging your warmth — and we both don’t want anything or anybody else. Where we don’t want more, we just want each other.
Maybe there’s a universe where I don’t covet so much all the time and where I’m content and where I don’t wonder about picking up and moving to Japan without saying anything to anyone and where at this very juncture, I can just know I’ll always want to come home and cook dinner with you.
If you think of it all this way, then it’s like neither of us did anything wrong.
You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy.
If this theory holds, well, by the law of averages, there had to be oneuniverse — just this one — where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it. If you think of it this way, nothing is our fault.
So see, that explains everything. We’re not together anymorebecause of the multiverse.
Well, isn’t that comforting?
If you’re sad, do like I do and just think of the other ‘verses. The ones where I believe in love and where I don’t hate myself and where I never feel the need to kamikaze relationships. A universe where we can have nice things. It’s helpful, right?
Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you.