We tend to prefer the certainty of misery to the misery of uncertainty. We tend to prefer to live with lies to avoid the pain the truth brings.

This solidarity is becoming the deadliest form of torture, I’m not sure how long ill be able to cope. They were the ones that I walked with hand in hand; we laughed, we cried, we traded our deepest secrets, we made childish future plans. I learnt that even the strongest friendships fall apart at the blink of an eye. Yet, I never let go.

I can’t come to comprehend this sudden desperation to push everything away. Regardless of my distaste for certain social situations, I know that isolation has potential for the worst. Tearing myself apart, trying to find a piece of living soul under the dim moonlight. Is there anything that I could ever succeed in? Will I ever be loved for who I truly am?

She was the girl who once thought of love as the sweet as candy, who once thought of life as a grand fairytale, who once thought of people as kind of Mother Theresa. She fought her battles, made her mistakes, and found herself alone at the finish line. What welcoming arms? grinning smiles? There was nothing but tears, pain, hatred, and a collection of permanent scars. She drowned in her false beliefs, lost her sense of self; she betrayed trust, she threw away love, she tore apart every piece of her untainted soul.

With every cough, it’s as if the sins of past are coming to haunt me.
With every smile, the lie manifests as the mask sinks deeper.
With every inhale, I wonder how long the body is going to hold up with every form of self destruction.

I’m so scared that I am getting ahead of myself again. Days with you, despite the gloomy weather, the draining paperwork, my laughs have not been this real for as long as I can recall. Your messy tousled hair, your cheeky remarks, perhaps it is not your intention, but it has caught every piece of my attention. You brought out the best in me, the part of me that I thought I have lost, the girl that was carefree, the girl that dreamt, that hoped, the girl that was happy, regardless of how heavy the monsoon rain was pouring down.

This is most likely to be too subjective coming from me, but I am allowing myself to flourish these thoughts of imagination because you are not like the rest of them. I will not even try to get over you, because you will always have your own chapter in my life. You will not be forgotten, I will not even attempt to destroy memories with you, no matter how painful this story ends.

You are not just another guy. I am not just another girl.
This is not a love story, but a story of love.

Her tears fall night and morning and she cannot draw pleasure from anything in heaven or on earth. Tormented by haunting voices from her past, she is overcome by weariness and yearns for death.

With each sunrise, sunset, she feels the insanity creeping to the edge. Her state of mind is venturing into a whirlpool of chaos, as her face remains expressionless, attempting to repress the millions of thoughts eating away her last strands of strength.

The stars shadowed the nightsky as she laid underneath that lofty, leafy tree, seeking answers, seeking refuge. she wondered if they were all right, if this was really just her being too hard on herself. Definitely not, the superego answered. Every room in the house has become danger zones with each of their own silent blades, the gruelling hours of early dawn eating away her soul.

This has become a starvation of life, of the most fundamental humanistic natures. She no longer laughs, no longer cries, no longer loves, no longer hurts. As stone cold as a marble sculpture, she lingers, she strolls, seeking her misplaced soul.

I dont know which one’s more difficult, admitting to weakness or overcoming it.

My body knows the drill by now on nights of such, yet my mind enters frenzy no matter how much of a routine it has become. The most daunting loneliness strikes, dissatisfaction engulfs all conscience; momentary relief throws the thoughts into spiralling chaos, as regrets and self accusation follows. Surrender rings as the cold concrete sends chills up the spine, I sometimes wonder how many times it’ll take for me to actually learn the lesson, what it’ll take to toughen my mentality to stay strong on the verges of crumbling. When was it did all evil traits decide to strike as one, to conquer down the beauties of the human race one by one. When did we all become such superficial beings, having to conceal real thoughts and emotions just to “keep up with the game”.

Trust is nonexistent beneath those thousands of layers of lies regardless of the exhausting effort we put in trying to dig up the truth. The good days are the ones we lock ourselves in fantasy world, no encounters with betrayal, secret games. If only a piece of that could be found in reality, where living life is as if fighting a gureilla warfare. There are too many broken hearts, too many vengeful minds, too many careless souls. It is no longer a journey seeking love, but a hunt for revenge to mend for one’s own pain and dissatisfaction.

Baby I’m too tired to play any more games. There will always be a piece of me that will  belong to you, but I’m over asking for more. No matter how much I wish you were mine, it is clear that I am incapable of controlling the way you feel. The constant looks in my direction when we are on two sides of the room, the sometimes things that you do for me going out of your way, your seemingly change in attitude is messing with my head.The worst thing is I cannot pull myself away and not notice your every move. Because when I look into your eyes, my heart melts, my legs tremble, and my thoughts run wild.

I dread how weak, how vulnerably and helplessly out of control I become when you’re around.

Remember the summer day we laid underneath that tall, leafy tree? We confided in our deepest secrets, exchanged our childish dreams, promised that we would never change. Back then, we were innocent, we were beautiful, untouched, untainted by the repugnant truths of the world.

Years went by and everything we hoped not to happen happened. We met those people, we did those things, we changed beliefs, we threw away dreams. The worst thing was we did not know it was occurring, let alone the reason that it all begun. Two summers later, under the same tree, everything had changed. We were no longer beautiful as no reminisces of naivety had been left behind. Our conversations became fulfilled of the most superficies.

We both knew, yet we were reluctant to say it. The answers to “what happened” would never be found, yet I still lie awake at night replaying the past years in my head. Often, I end up in denial of all the changes that had taken place, stubbornly reassuring myself that I must have just been overthinking it all. If only we could go back to eating lollipops, drinking soda water and playing jigsaw puzzles.

Baby girl, when will our world stop spinning, when will all the dust settle. Our pleading gazes speak for the exhaustion that’s pulling us down. All I wish for is for everything back to the way they used to be. The days without tears, pain and hatred. The days of the most innocent laughters, the most carefree adventures, the days of the simplistic joys.

The greatest irony of love; loving the right person at the wrong time, having the wrong person when the time is right and finding out you love someone right after that person walks out of your life. And sometimes, you think you’re already over a person, but when you see them smile at you, you’ll suddenly realize that you’re just pretending to be over them just to ease the pain of knowing that they will never be yours again. For some, they think that letting go is one way of expressing how much they love that person. Some are afraid to see the one they love being held by someone else. Most relationships tend to fail not because the absence of love. Love is always present. It’s just that one was being loved too much and the other was being loved too little. As we all know that the heart is the center of the body but it beats on the left. Maybe that’s the reason why the heart is not always right. Most often we fall in love with the person we think we love but to only discover that for them, we are just for passing time while the one who truly loves us remains either a friend or a stranger. So here’s a piece of advice; let go when you’re hurting too much, give up when love isn’t enough, and move on when things are not like before. For surely there is someone out there who will love you even more.

I can’t believe I’m allowing myself to go through this again. Flipping through old journal entries, it was more than clear how much pain I had to undergo last time. Yet this winter, I fell for those brown eyes again.

I know it’s not meant to be easy, but certainly, it’s not meant to be that difficult either. What happened to the sparks that flew, the songs that we danced to, the streets that we walked down hand in hand. Flashbacks stab into my heart as I attempt getting over you every passing day. I know it’s all in my head - the awkward tension and nonexistent conversations. If this was anyone else, this fear would simply not exist. The fear of possibly hearing those same apologetic words the second time around. The fear of spending another round of countless days regretting my confession. The fear of the repetition of neverending nights tearing over the impossible. Yet I am unable to measure out which would hurt more - hearing unwanted things, or never knowing the truth. I dread how you have the ability to steal away all the strength within me. I dread seeing bloodshot eyes in the mirror, wondering the worthiness of existence. I dread that nauseas feeling after every unspeakable struggle. However, as I recall back to the frantic thoughts present last night, there was a glimpse of hope. I knew, they all knew, that this time around, I am stronger. This time around, the fall may be deep, rapid and unstoppable but I know it will be into someone’s arms. Someone is there to catch me, listen to me cry. Someone is there to tell me a thousand times and over that everything is going to be okay. Because at times like this, another “you are strong” lecture is not what is needed. All there has to be is a “I will be there to be strong for you, with you” promise.

Waking up to another morning breathing your name, I wondered what it would be like if we never crossed paths.

Sometimes I wish I never asked for your name. The name that I repeated chanted night after night, the name that I cried over as a nightly lullaby.
Sometimes I wish we never spoke. Of my past, my present, and my endless childish dreams.
Sometimes I wish I never heard your voice. That familiar husky yet clear sound, that rings unceaselessly of your blurted drunken words.
Sometimes I wish we never danced. The night when our bodies pressed tight, the night when we held hands, the night I would never be able to scratch from my memory, as days and nights go by.
Sometimes I wish I never looked into your eyes. It is impossible to not love those mesmerizing eyes, as I yearn to be let in, into the deepest corner of your soul.
Sometimes I wish we never kissed. I knew it was all too late, the moment your soft lips touched mine. I gave into destiny as I finally opened up, letting myself fall.

A part of me knew, the more we progressed, the more misery it would bring. Complicated is when you don’t know where you stand in a person’s life. It’s when you’re hanging in dead air and knowing you can be thrown off anytime. It’s when you’re like more than friends but not really, and it’s like you’re lovers when it’s really otherwise. Sometimes I would want to have never met you at all but at the back of my mind, I am thankful I have, because all those awake moments I spend with you, I feel like the luckiest girl, the only girl in the world.

Here’s my heart, my soul. Take it, rip it, I don’t care. I just want to fly, fly away with you.