A letter for the boy from down the street –

You always wrapped yourself up in fairy tales, in stories of extravagant and vibrant love. It was the hope you fell in love with. In your dreamland, you pranced in between lines of heartbreak, anticipating the day your prince will wake you from your eternal slumber and take you away to never-land. That maybe he’ll pass like the wind, and patch up your heartbreaks, and claim them as his own.

At first you thought that it could’ve been the boy in eighth grade who would look at you a little more graciously than others. Or maybe the boy you’d catch a bus with and the way you seemed to feel a little more understood in this world of feeling misunderstood. But the boy in the eighth grade looked at you smiling, as he ran the field chasing the new girl, and the boy on the bus, confided in you about love growing in his heart again, protesting that he found something worthwhile, just not in you.

You still remember it now. The tears shed at the corner of your bed, and your sole dependence on these tales thinking that singing to the stars would hopefully find its way to someone, alleviate the heaviness on your heart. Thinking that it would help the fact that your dad left you once.

That someone or something would save you.

The dare to believe was ingrained within you. It burned within you. If Prince Charming was real, he has to be out there, he has to save you from this unfairness. When would he come? He needed to come.

However, you slowly began to resent love. All of the flowers that grew in your heart, began to fall asleep, the last of the few sitting in a corner, losing trace of life. Only one stands now, its colour however, slowly diminishing. Your castle began to wither, your doors left wide open for darkness to enter; and for every broken piece of your heart that remained piled on old shelves, you hung it up like a million chandeliers as you danced in your castle, your windows covered in long thick vines. You slowly started to become one with your home, the creeping plants wrapping itself around your feet, softly but unknowingly. It was beautiful there. You could scream and hear the echoes of the words a thousand times, when you would try and justify why you never succeeded at love. You wrote songs, in hopes to soften the pain inflicted by each heartbreak, and like a choir, sung your anthems into the night. You fell in love with your pain, locking yourself away in your perfect utopia, vowing to never open your heart to any boy ever again.

And just like that, you locked yourself in a safe prison, far away from the boys who masked themselves as knights declaring to save you.

Every now and then, you’d pull back the moss covering the window panes, you once waited so patiently on, wondering if there was hope beyond the horizon. But, you soon became familiar with the way the branches that travelled throughout the castle, pulled you out of the light, coveting you, convincing you that it’s much safer here, in the arms of yourself.

So, right when you thought you were going to disappear, when the storm began to make its way to your kingdom and you decided to close your gates, vines beginning to envelop you entirely,

he saw you…

dancing with all that you ever knew, yourself.

You knew somewhere deep, when you caught sight of him, that this was too good to be true. That he couldn’t have been this god sent angel here to mend your broken bones, take you away from your despair, for you vowed to never place yourself in the sight of love ever again. You ran for the gates anyway, intrigued. Had love finally visited your doorstep? But eventually, leaves began to entrap your feet. What if he’ll hurt you like the others? What if he burns the last remaining flower you have left?

Promising to never hurt you the way the ones before did, you stayed inside, succumbing to the comfort of your old friends. You convinced yourself that fairy tales are for the reckless, choosing to dance alone in your palace, once again. You choose to let love sit idle, grow stale in an old jar, never allowing yourself to be swept. You let him marvel at your soul. After all, you’d rather dance all alone, then ever dance with someone, only to realise that that’s all your cold heart has truly ever wanted.

There he stands outside your walls. Isn’t this what you wanted, didn’t you want to be loved? He’s here, but why can’t you let him in?

As you meet yourself in this castle, one where your pain is covered in shiny trinkets and get quick denial schemes, you realise that this isn’t beautiful but lonely. That this is a liars kingdom, and that even though all you have ever wanted has arrived, you can’t face it.

It’s because you realise now what it truly means to love. That these walls are you, and that even the bravest of Prince Charming can never save you from yourself, tell the voices in your head to go away.

So as you hear the screams of yourself wallow through the walls of your castle, pleading to remain unchanged, and promising to keep you safe and warm, you decide to tear down the vines and open your windows.  You dance one last time, but now with a desolate knowingness, that no longer are you the girl who vowed to never love again. No longer will you plea for a justice system to punish the ones who hurt you, that changed you. You begin to tear down the chandeliers you’ve worked so hard to display, to make seem more beautiful than they actually were. As they all shatter before you, you are visited with a newfound gratitude that as disoriented as you are, you are not made to be pieced back together, but to be embraced in all of your brokenness.

As you watch him travel through this palace, making his way to the somewhat lifeless flower that sits in a jar, you feel the sun rays visit your face, and for once you’re comforted by its warmth. At first, you’re scared that he holds the only thing in this castle redeemable, alive. But, as you begin to stare into this abyss known as his eyes, you feel the branches that have kept you secluded, begin to untangle, and like a string of lights fluttering, you ignite. It’s not because he has come to save you, promise to never break your heart, but because years of locking your heart, in a corner, deprived of love, didn’t save you from pain, from the treachery of a broken heart.

Love is a tricky thing. It’s a double edged sword. It’s your greatest blessing, providing you with all that you’d ever need, but if bargained with, will become your biggest curse, one that leaves you withering in a faraway castle.

So for the girl who cried the whole way home, who wished so desperately to be seen, I’m sorry you got hurt… I’m sorry, that you were left to feel pain. But, please don’t be afraid of love. Don’t romanticise your heart break, or pledge to lock the last remaining strand of love away, so that no one would do what they did to you, long ago. Don’t create a prison masquerading as your home, or dance with the voices that encourage you to never open yourself up again.

For if you don’t dare to love despite falling, and falling brutally by this wondrous Prince Charming perhaps; the regret you’ll feel will be torturous more than the pain caused by living love.

So to the boy down the street, thank you for visiting me in a far off daydream, for being this enchanting figure to me, and helping me realise that no amount of wishing will take away the pain caused by the ones in your past. But even more, that no amount of locking yourself away, will save you from pain you’ll possibly face.

It is because of you, I’m slowly beginning to feel what it truly means to love.

 

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sorry for ghosting you, my online friends.

Usually I’d write to you five pages of how my year had played out and then I’d get all sentimental about all of the moments that I’ll never manage to get back. But, for once things were a little bit in the moment, rather than reflecting on the moment.

So, I’m sorry for ghosting you, for leaving pieces of this story left untold, not that it means anything really. I’m sorry for continuing to lose sight of what I find refuge in, and completely vanishing off the face of the earth, with no explanation just to return a few months later, a little more sorry than the last. I can’t guarantee you anything because after all, I’m all of what it means to be lost, trying to feel found, so I’ll stumble and I’ll fall. That’s me. I can only promise to try a little more…

But, I’m not sorry for the fact that I felt oddly free in my absence. In a short amount of time, I wasn’t observing for once, but actually experiencing, without the need to try and understand it.

I mean I went to my first concert, and if I could only describe how it felt to have sound pulse through you, I’d never stop. But I just stood there, puppy eyed, feeling so much. I also became friends with the night, roaming the city with another lonesome soul. And I mean, for once I didn’t write my five page letter every 31st December to commemorate the highlights of the year, of how much I’ll miss it, and how it has taught me more than the last. I went out to the beach, drunk, and cried because the stars looked so pretty for the first time in my life.

It’s funny, because my mum often says I cried because I was drunk and was just sensitive, but in all honesty, I was so fully aware of the moment, being drunk was just an excuse. I would’ve cried sober, but they wouldn’t know that, they don’t know that.

I stayed up all night, sitting on a park bench with a boy, on numerous occasions talking about everything we could possibly cover if we were ever asked. I lived, without having to think about consequences, or repercussions. We were just two peas in a pod, not asking for much.

I literally was falling in love with moments, as they were happening, not being fearful or nostalgic of it ending, but just letting go completely, and allowing myself to feel.

I’ve learnt a lot about what I’ve needed during this small, but vital change in my life. I stepped out of my comfort zone and it was exhilarating but also very telling. It’s revealed a lot of what I’ve chosen to hide over time, and what I’ve secretly wanted, so I’m thankful for the turn of events these last few months. I really am.

I’ve had the time of my life, taking it all in. It’s been just beautiful, if you’d ask me.

So, I’m sorry for losing sight, but I’m also thankful for losing sight, if you know what I mean.

I’ll see you when I see you…

 

I think he’s really going to matter to me.

It’s not I like you or that this is amazing. It’s not falling in love with a feeling, or smiling uncontrollably.

It’s being aware in a particular moment, in a small instance where you know that this person has all of you and that they are going to mean so much to you. It’s liberating but daunting at the same time, because their flame can provide all of the warmth you’ve ever needed, but also burn your edges if you ever decided to take advantage of them.

It’s knowing that this love is going to take you places, that you’ve never been before. It’s going to crawl into the crevices of previous heartbreak and replenish the pain, tears that pushed in an old bedside table from when you were 13. It’s going to be the waters that save you during the drought. It’s going to surround you, it’s current softly touching your fingertips, before it decides to envelop you, carefully, but unapologetically.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought love was like this. I never thought that it would be this peculiar feeling that the world is within just you and this special person.

I always reached into a thought it was a fairytale that had so much pain, passion and sadness to it. That it was this movie that tested and challenged two people, by throwing rocks and obstacles to obstruct their love. But oh, how hopelessly foolish I was.

I can never really commentate on what love is, and what type of love is right. But this love, it’s really something. He not only amazes me, but we fall in and out of each other, like the perfect puzzle.

And I can’t say whether I’m in love with him or not, but some strong feeling is letting me know,

that he’s really going to matter to me.

Bye old me, I’ll miss you a lot.

I was browsing the web today, and once again I fell into a hole where I envied everyone who seemed to know themselves. I don’t have great fashion taste, as a matter of a fact, I don’t think I have fashion taste at all. I’m one of those self conscious roamers who don’t entirely know their place in this world if I could say honestly. It did inspire me to reach into myself and see how fashion could best reflect me though.

After envying everyone, I watched some quotes compilations on Youtube, in order to help reach into the feelings I was going through. I never expected it, but I read this quote which says, “Want to know what people are afraid to lose, look into what they photograph”. This quote caused a flashback when I was in my final year of high school last year, and I explored the theme of adolescence for my art folio. I’ve always been so astounded by the motions of youth, the reckless ease, the obliviousness yet the urge to explore. It’s incongruent. I’ve captured youth, written about youth whilst I had still been able to feel it. I guess I realised that I wanted to capture it so much before I’d ever have to face losing it. Some part of me was aware that it only lasted temporarily, so I documented everything associated with it.

Over the past two days, I’ve been missing school, missing the reckless days where I thought life was hard and never understood me. Life isn’t hard now, but it’s harder. High school gave me the perfect excuse to be hopelessly in love, to pour my heart out into books, and fantasise about fictional characters, delve into essays and books, create life out of every moment. High school was the excuse to be young and free, happy and sad, a dichotomy of feeling, whether it is confinement and emancipation. I look at the boy I once loved, how he is and I realise I’d never be able to like someone like that ever again. It was only precious and enchanting because it was innocent. Life for me in high school was completely innocent, protecting me from the reality. I could capture him in all of his entirety, talk to the moon late at night and sing songs about him, but now there is a veil that blocks the person who I used to be, versus the person I am now becoming.

You see, whilst I was behind the veil, I desperately wanted to be free of it, yet now I am free of it, I wish I cherished the time I experienced in it a bit more.

There is this thing called responsibility now that covets the innocence that had once existed. I’m still getting used to it, and I will eventually get used to it.

It was just nice honestly. To once be able to feel. And feel completely.

Yours truly, the girl you’d never suspect.

Dear Reader, these are all the words I had wished to say to the man who made me feel love.

In your eyes, I fell in love, so hard I swear I knew, that we loved centuries ago. That somehow, although I hadn’t completely understood, I must have loved you before. I saw it in your eyes within short moments, heard it in your voice, the certainty of a being greater than myself, whisper, it’s you.

The world changed for me that day. The trees seem more vibrant, my pace seemed more sonic and cohesive. My eyes looked at the world brighter, better than it ever was.

I knew you. Or I knew the feeling I was meant to feel when I was with you. It was so familiar, as if life had been a disoriented puzzle, until you had come to make sense of it all. I knew that feeling, I had felt that feeling before, so many times.

That night, I looked at the stars, noticed the power of god in all of his presence and wrote you to life. You governed the night, I wrote about you and swear that I had known you. I was so proud of you, so genuinely proud of you. All your accomplishments were your own. I saw you glimmer in a world a part from us. A part from our entire existence.

After that moment, I was perfectly capable to let you go into the world, because if you were mine, you’d come back to me. In this vast world, I was fearless enough to let you go.

You ignited something within me, brought me to life in ways I’d never understand. I was revived.

Now a part of my heart holds your name. No other competitor has swayed the level of fascination you have caused me to feel. It remains diligent, the feeling I have had when I was with you for that short moment.

Yes, every moment after that, was me slowly falling in love with you from the sidelines. But that initial moment I had talked to you, wasn’t me saying that I was falling in love you. It was beyond that. A part of me had already loved you before being aware of the moment, your existence.

You will float, become a character that will forever fade into every man I see. Your name will forever become a memory I was glad to experience.

You were truly remarkable. The love I had, the experience I felt, the whirlwind of emotions that came over me. All of them were because of you. No matter how much pain this love had caused, I’d do it again.

I’d gladly love you again.

Yours truly, the girl you’d never suspect…

 

Figuring out myself, one bit at a time.

Every morning I wake up. In those moments, I go through a variation of a few emotions. One being annoyance that the sun is hitting my face, in the most unfortunate way; and the second being that once again I’m following the same pattern of living day to day with no real sense of direction for anything.

I’ve found that life can be quite disappointing, and honestly really mediocre. In that realisation, I’ve also begun to notice that only a small few ever get to live what they love, and not become a slave to this world. Some are more free than others.

It’s currently 12am right now, and have found myself browsing the net for courses that I could possibly study within the next year or so. I guess I’m slowly becoming ready for school again, and that thought makes me really excited. I came across a couple and it really opened up my mind, in a sense where I got to look at potential career options and just overall being in that environment again.

To be honest, I really do miss school.

But I’m somewhat a little antsy because the reality is, if I am going to study, it really has to be something worth studying, not something silly like creative writing, or literary studies, although that’s what I really want to do.

So, I’m in a bit of a predicament.

But I also know that nothing is impossible, and this helplessness I feel can be alleviated within this small vicinity called myself. If I work hard enough, really perfect my art, I can get where I want, and eventually study what I want to study, without the worry that it won’t provide me a good job.

Here’s to wishing for the best and eventually achieving everything I have wanted.

 

Long hours and blasting thoughts.

Hello everyone. Today wasn’t really extraordinary at all. I ran some errands today with my family, then came home and relaxed. After that, I prepared to go to work. In the time spent throughout the day and during work, I had a fair amount of thoughts. I thought about an old friend from school who I have been keeping in touch with, and about love and all its complications. My thoughts are however really jumbled up right now, and I can’t seem to reach the heart of really want to say.

I’m fairly happy I guess…I have been writing a lot more, and have been pushing myself to at least write on this blog everyday. I have been doing writing exercises too which has been very good. I have thought a lot about my future and where it lies specifically. Whenever I think about that, I however get very anxious because I have dreams and sometimes I feel as if they aren’t authentic or they are false. Right now they feel real, but what if a human knows how to trick itself? I go through this complex daily, continuing to question whether my decisions are mature or immature decisions.

I put those thoughts off though, trying not to let the weight of it all impose on my everyday life too much. I have made up in my mind what I want to study, but some part of me doesn’t feel that drive in it. I haven’t fully developed the love for it. I say to myself however that future me will understand and that this is a bargain that I don’t understand now, but will eventually come to thank myself later. Some part of me questions though, what if I won’t like it, what if future me will resent me and hate that I didn’t pursuit my dreams? But then I search deep within myself and look at my career choice and say, there’s not much to lose. It’s a humanitarian based career pathway that will liberate the soul, it should make life more meaningful. I’m doing it again. These are just the constant thoughts that combat each other in my mind, and to be  honest, it never stops.

I want to leave all that, now that it has started. Ugh. Otherwise, yeah my day has been really good. I’m glad that after I finished work, I dedicated time to this. It’s a step closer to being a better me.

I hope you had a good day reader, that your struggles were bearable and that you see the greatness in every new day going forth.

Thanks for listening to my pointless thoughts.

 

Have you vanished off the face of the earth yet?

Ever since finishing school, I have vanished off the face off the earth. No longer am I talking to the people that I used to talk to, or am chatting with people regarding homework. It’s funny. The people you thought would be there, travel alongside you in the treachery of the adult world, aren’t with you anymore.

I specifically had a friend where we walked home together, talked about our dreams, and would always get excited at the possibility of achieving greatness in our lives after finishing school. To be honest, I thought he would be there, but now it seems like you have to fight to keep in touch with the people you thought would always be there in the first place.

Maybe it was me. Maybe I didn’t push hard enough, ask to see him on the weekends or to go out every now and then to retain our friendship. But maybe, I shouldn’t have had to try so hard, have had to chase after a friendship that could have most likely worked, just so that it could work. I don’t blame him now that I come to think about it. People are young, reckless. We are all puzzle pieces in attempt to fit, so I accept that what was, once was. I hope he does well in his future. Finds new friends, grows into the person he is meant to become, and achieve all of those dreams we spent so long talking about, whilst walking together every afternoon on the way home.

So many friends have left me, all of which I don’t mind. I have vanished off the face of the earth. Sometimes I like it because I can feel okay in my skin. I can look at my life and not compare it so recklessly to others.

Sometimes though, I look at the people I have grown up around splurge into this big vast world, so daring, so head on, so happy. Yet, I feel left behind, as if my life is a bit too monotonous in comparison to everyones great achievements. Everyone is going off into university, getting into their dream courses, somehow having the world at her feet. I haven’t achieved much. My life isn’t as daring as others.

I watched a video about John Green and he pointed out that just because someone chooses to live a quiet life  doesn’t make it any less meaningful than someone who flourishes on their Instagram profile. A daring life isn’t being remarkably adventurous, it’s within the act of being daring.

This piece of advice somehow seemed to comfort me. It gave me a sense of peace that my life wasn’t daring or any less meaningful, just because it is moving at a different pace at others. I felt that as I mopped floors at work or looking up at the purple lightning in the sky, my life was just as daring, just as meaningful.

That was the greatest feeling in the world.

 

 

Today wasn’t so much of a bad day, right?

Although I have only lived throughout half of today, I don’t feel as bad like the usual. I don’t always have bad days, but when I do, it comes down really hard. I know I really don’t have the right to say I have had a bad day, I actually feel really entitled saying those words. But I guess sometimes I experience an influx of emotions, and when one part of myself disappoints me, then I slump into beating myself up. For once, I felt a sense of accomplishment today. I didn’t do anything remarkable. But I guess it was the little nuggets of self love I gave myself today. For once I didn’t beat myself up for the way that I am, but was really happy with myself. I was bettering myself. For once, I didn’t compare myself to others, but felt like there was greatness in my life, something to be genuinely proud of. I thank God for the sense of gratitude I feel, the courage and hope that I can achieve anything I want or desire today. I just feel that moving at my own pace is okay, I don’t need to do anything extraordinary to feel adequate. I feel adequate right now, in my own skin, in my own person. I give thanks for the alleviation God has given me in terms of the hopelessness I feel. It’s a gift to ever feel this way, and I am thankful.

Yay…

 

I swear I saw him in the stars tonight…

Love is a complex thing isn’t it. You’re not bound to it, your challenged by it. A few days ago, I thought about love and how I felt bound to it, how I naturally have the disposition to be bound to love. In that initial thought, came all of the ones my little heart has loved before. For 2 years my heart was preoccupied, holding onto a slight probability that one boy would notice me sooner or later back when I was 13. I eventually learned through years that I invested time on a possibility, put myself under so much heartbreak because I swore I was bound to love.

I guess in the moment, you feel that love is this spiritual entity that governs this perfect narrative, when in reality it isn’t the case. Love has to be mutual. For 2 years unrequited love touched me because I never loved myself to realise I deserved someone who had noticed me in the first place. Unrequited love isn’t pretty, it’s emotional masochism.

I have for numerous years been on the outsiders perspective when it came to love. I always cried myself to sleep, talked to the moon, hoping there was someone talking back on the other side. I always thought that I wasn’t pretty, or was the oddball. I probably was. Still am. These heartbreaks never really healed, because I didn’t understand the semantics of it entirely. I never understood that I needed to see myself as worthy of love. Owning it. In my previous years, I’d bow down to it, believing that it chose me, and that all these times I’d cry, I must not be ready for love.

Late last year, I felt love and to say honestly, it was the most remarkable thing that ever has touched me. It was more than me. Anyway, just like usual I saw him fall out and into love again. I really don’t want you to get the wrong idea about him. The feelings that came along with him were more than what both him and I could comprehend. Anyway, I finished school, accepted the fact I’d never see him again, and attempted to move on with my life. At first I did (move on I mean), but every time I would see him occasionally, everything would reignite. Then I would look at the stars and ask God, what I did I do to ever deserve this? Until a couple of days ago, I never realised what I was continuing to do to myself. I wrote in my diary complaining that I just cannot quit him. I didn’t feel jealous of whoever he was going to love, for I would love them because he loved them. But I just wouldn’t be able to quit him. Now I realise that love hasn’t bound me to this one person. Fates change, people change, destinies change. I cannot do what I did when I was younger, give my heart wholly for someone for 2 years. Where do I save room for myself? I have nearly beaten myself up, never chose to love myself enough because I thought I was never capable of love…

Up until a couple of days ago, I was going to continue to do just that. But then I realised – to what extent will I love him before I stop loving myself. Unrequited love isn’t romantic or something that fills your youth. It’s emotionally masochistic. I loved him, I’d gladly love him again, but I can love myself, I can rid myself of the heartbreak of seeing him fall in and out of love again. I don’t need to see that.

So I’m here drawing the line, saying that I’d gladly love him again, but I’m not going to hurt myself in the process. Enough of that.

See you later.