Lie To Me

I hold on to the moments after. I hold on to a lot of things, sometimes too much, and for too long. My hands are full.

Hate,

“She doesn’t yet realize that love unreturned eventually transforms into a fierce tangled mess, nerves and entrails exposed like split animal innards. She doesn’t understand that sometimes the unrequited must demand reparations, that love can be a mean and spiteful process, that sometimes one loses patience with love. So, when the nerves and guts have seemingly been packed away, sewn in and cleaned up so as not to make all the innocent bystanders uncomfortable, the carrier of this love becomes heavy with a toxic lump that grows, slowly and steadily, into a fierce ball of scarred tissue.

Located two ribs below the heart, it is called hate.”

-Skinny, Ibi Kaslik

Time will never be a factor. This is how it’s going to be. Everything is starting to feel far away; a copy of a copy of a copy. The distance of everything, I can’t touch anything and nothing can touch me. Two ribs below my heart, the emotion festers and morphs, it tortures. But I don’t try to assuage it. I don’t have anything to lose anymore.

Heartbreak

Heartbreak is a war that rages internally, with no end in sight. It’s like dropping a watermelon down a bridge-it will break into more pieces than it was ever made of, just like our hearts. It cannot be salvaged, nor glued back together, because the pieces are too hard to find, too minuscle to handle, even with the nimblest of fingers.

Like a dancer who has lost the use of her legs, heartbreak will cripple us in more ways than one. It will make a hole in us so dark and empty that we won’t even realise it’s there, right up to the moment when we get sucked in an we can’t get out, no matter how hard we try.

Or how much we want to.

Je suis
Tu es
Il est
Nous sommes
Vous êtes
Il sont
Je suis
Tu es
Il est
Nous.

If You’re Afraid To Say, But You’d Like To Try

Lover forgive me, my guilt is my only crime
And I’ll carry it around till it breaks me down every time.

All it takes is the blink of an eye, the squeeze of a trigger, a sudden gust of wind. Wake up and your life is perched on a precipice; fall asleep, it swallows you whole.

I cannot take back what I have done, or what I might have said. Regret – it’s the saddest word in the world. The knowledge that I cannot do anything to fix it, or make it better in any way however big or small, is torturing me the most. I hate to look back like this, I hate saying things which I know I’ll hate myself for, and yet, I do it. Why is this so? Why am I being a totally different person from what I want to be?

I haven’t changed the slightest bit, haven’t become someone stronger or guarded. All that has changed in me is that I can no longer seem to project my emotions into something tangible. I cannot cry, nor bleed. All I can do is to sit here and replay everything in my head, and console myself with the notion that I am going to learn from this, and I’m never going back to what I was before. But the consoling isn’t working, the hurting isn’t easing up. I am left here unable to comprehend what has become of me. I am left here thinking about what has evolved from something potentially great to an utter tragedy.

I am left here knowing nothing except that this tragedy was caused by me.

I can’t forgive my naivety, nor my senseless hope and the pretentious way in which I’ve fooled myself. I guess the only way now is to accept that I am a fucking mess, that I am neither more mature nor strong.

Alvin, you were right. All I am is afraid. Now tell me what to do.

All the Spilt Milk Sex & Weight Will Fall Right Into Place

It’s harder to be friends than lovers
And you should never try to mix the two
‘Cause if you do it and you’re still unhappy
Then you know that the problem is you.

I am displaced. I have been hurled into perplexity, and nothing is registering in this discombobulated mind that I am ashamed to say is mine. I have gone nowhere in paving a path to get to you, and I am resenting the petulance that you’ve had to face from me all this time. Apology after apology, I churn them out but they alway return without even the slightest tear in the envelope. And with each next apology I send out, less of me is left behind, more of me is chipped and blown away, finally getting caught in the complex web which is us.

I cannot take back what I have done. I am aware that I am your girlfriend, and I am aware that I have failed mightily in behaving like one. I am sending out another apology, and this time I am sending you all of me.

Don’t send it back.

I’m Still Here

And perhaps it’s common fears,

or uncommon hearts

That makes us insincere

And torn apart.

“Love without a dream will not survive.”

“It’s now or never,” I told you. But like I said, I tend to say things without thinking them through first (yeah blonde I know). So this is just to let you know, it would still be a yes even if I didn’t make a decision that night. It would still be a yes, because all I’ve wanted to do was stall for time, to make things complicated when in truth, it was just this easy. Always has been, and always will be, when it comes to you.

And for someone else, this is for you. You don’t always have to be right, even if you think that it’s the only thing you’re good at and can be proud of. Because we’re proud enough of you as it is, we’re goddamn proud of the person you are, just you. Nobody can compare to what you are because even without trying, or knowing, you are special. To the world, you may be no one. But to someone, you might be world. That goes without saying for me.