love goes

Where does the love go when it’s gone?

I don’t know. But I know when and where it stayed before leaving. It was once etched in ink on both our skins in the right side of our ring finger where promises of forever were kept. I used to carry it around my pocket in that little note torn from a book’s page that I ever so carefully folded to fit in my wallet. We used to whisper and let it linger in the air trying to see how long it will last, hoping for it to not fade when it did the moment it didn’t make sense anymore. Then it’s gone in a trapdoor we never saw like an amateur magician’s one last trick before the curtain falls. It was gone just as fast as it came. 

Now you only remember it left when it was leaving. That it left a permanent ink on your skin like the memories you can’t laser out of your mind, a book with a lost page of an epilogue that will never be whole again, a magician’s box of tricks except that there was never magic at all. And your curtain falls and tear like the rest of you on the floor. And then it’s gone as fast as it came except that it left your broken pieces on the floor like the rest of your tricks and a top hat that you can’t shove your sadness down. 

Because you know it’s not just a simple pulling-a-rabbit-out-a-hat show at all.

😌

fine

"How are you?" someone asked and I replied "Fine. Not bad," without a second thought. I did not find myself wanting to cry, muffling my voice, silently screaming in my head and avoiding eye-contact. How are you? I ask myself when I sit quietly on my balcony and sip my iced coffee while listening to arijitsingh. I do not get a certain answer. My heart fumbles and stammers and say that it's not been too bad. I make breakfast every morning and go out with my friends on Saturdays. My Mother calls me one Sunday and I visit my hometown. People ask about how work was going, and if I was dating someone new. Not one question about my well-being but I know that's how relationships work when they aren't chosen but forced upon you. I simply answer those questions and go back to my bedroom and open up my drawers. I found photographs from my school and university days. If someone saw them, they'd say that I didn't change a bit but I know why I looked so happy in my 3rd grade picture after we lost a match, and why I lost so much weight during my 4th year of college. Nobody else can tell it but I know that I have changed enormously. I close my eyes and my heart whispers "I can't wait to get out of here and go home." And then it hits me. All my thoughts evaporate and I find myself smiling, not knowing what I am exactly happy about. It hits me when I pack my bags suddenly and tell my Mother that there's a meeting I can't miss. It hits me when I say goodbye to everyone and sit on the airplane. It hits me when I reach the city and buy groceries on my way home. And it hits when I open the door and crash on my couch. I walk to my balcony and water the plants. I make some pancakes and sit in my dining room. I look at my bedroom and adore the posters and merchandise of my favourite shows all around the room. I open my drawer and smell my clothes that I bought without asking anyone if it would be fine to wear something like that and I realise that I have finally built a life for me. I know that I have a place that I call home, and there's a place where I can be myself without anyone else's input. I am glad that my heart asks me if I am fine multiple times throughout the day and on days when I am not, it nudges me to eat ice cream with my friends and buy more plants. I am not living my life half-heartedly anymore. My problems aren't going to disappear soon and I know that just like I know that the sun would rise again tomorrow but I also know that it's all right to take all the time in the world to be okay again. My therapist appreciates all my effort that I put into healing myself and becoming someone who I have always wanted to be. I know that this isn't the ending anyone would want, but at least it's a step forward. I am learning and growing. And when someone asks how I am doing, I gently nod and reply "Fine. Not bad." This time, my heart answers it with certainty.

— 

dairy of introvert

//from the diary of an introvert//

When I think of the moments I've been the happiest, it's strange how most of them do not involve other people. I've felt out of place for the longest time, and for the longest time, I've tried to fit in. I've felt incapable of feeling happy-the kind that comes so easily to people around me. Parties, drinking, blinding lights and the whole shebang hardly excites me. I try, I promise, but it doesn't bring me joy or thrill or whatever it is most people get out of it. If anything, it makes me scared. I step out, and I feel this aching desire to go back home. But do not get me wrong, I do not hate people, and I am not lonely or sad. In fact, I have so much love for people in my heart; I owe my life to them, and I might just be one of those unusually happy people that make you wonder what's so good about life. I think I simply enjoy my company a little more. I love softness, I love random conversations in the kitchen, I love dancing in my room to no song in particular. That's my kinda party: a quiet corner, a conversation, a "look at the sky!" moment that lasts forever. I am tired of trying to find happiness in other, more dominant, louder ways of people. I am trying not to compare my party to theirs. Perhaps the world would consider me boring, but let the world know-I am VERY happy in my boredom, and i couldn’t care less.

earlier is easier

The year was 2012. 

You were on your toes because you heard about the Mayan prediction that the world would end the same year. 

Even though you were scared, you just can't ignore the fact that it was your best year so far. 

You have downloaded One Direction and 5SOS songs in your recently installed Spotify; you have memorized the dance steps to Super Junior and 2NE1's new singles, and you even play World of Warcraft, Assassin's Creed, and The Walking Dead with your classmates after school. 

Going home was also an exciting thing because you were always welcomed by your siblings' bantering and your parents' warmth. You might've dragged yourself to finish your homework after dinner but still got excited with the thought of seeing your bestfriends again the next day. 

Your weekends were full of fun activities — it was filled with family vacations and your friends' plans to stroll around the mall, but you sometimes just spend it alone inside your room watching your favorite anime and series or catching up with the various mangas queued up in your list. 

The year was 2012 and life was good. 

Maybe the Mayans were right afterall — the world ended that year because we have never felt the same ever since. Come 2013, everything changed — responsibilities woke us up to our reality and the succeeding years were hard as well. 

Or maybe we just grew up. Maybe that's the only reason and that's okay, too. 

2020 was the worst but two years later and we're still here — you're even reading this comfortably from your phone. Amazing, isn't it? 

So, life is still good. Maybe not the best, but it's fine. Life has ups and downs and how we live it matters the most anyway. 

Live well. Love deeply. Lose yourself in the moment.

Allow yourself to love life.

—