Is there a word, for the things you have no words for?
I heard a knock, I recognise that tone. One look at her face, I already know what's going on. Just not what happened. I wake up everyday for her, I follow her around or them around to stop certain things from occurring, or at least, to avoid it from becoming more godawful. Any moment I turn my back away, things collapses. Or so I think, to me. It's none of what should matter to me, at least not in this way as it isn't my responsibility. However I've always been like this, I've always been the one to carry all these feelings and worries. I wish it mattered but nobody ever notices and it doesn't quite bother me anymore as it once did. From one perspective, it would never get any better. It is the way it is, it happens. If I get out of this, I save myself. I might just have a chance of living life the way I should at my age. It's too late for that now. This is a maze you can't get out from, you always get pulled back into it once you've reached the end of it.
Don't forget Him who created you, love Him, put your trust in Him, and have faith. I'd think, if I live everyday, no matter how hard my days could get, if I remind myself to be grateful and remember, say a prayer the least, even on the days where life flows according to how I'd prefer it to, that He'd make him stay. I would tell myself, the more I devote myself to god, the more He's aware of how the creature he created whom I am so in love with, is right for me, that he inspires me to become better and each time, I thank god for it. Despite the fact that we all know on how, He knows it all, and better. Well it's the kind of hope that keeps me going.
It's been months, and still, each time I think about it, I've never wanted or loved anyone more than the way I do when it comes to him. I think about it from time to time, of how lucky I got and how easy it is for it to get fucked over by how I am. Some days it makes no sense how much I dread it happening, the fear of it itself brings me to tears. I'd never been so hard on myself than I am when it comes to messing this up. I've never wanted to become somebody else so much at the same time tries to improve myself for the sake of someone whose existence was once so trivial. I would never have imagined how much he'd mean to me. Everything means so much since day one, it's ridiculous. So much, that I miss everything everyday, in fear that the next day, it will no longer be there.
You're finally coming out of your box,
You're not safe, you're not in danger, you're stuck and lost. You're alone. You're no one's to comfort. You're just another person, they'll resent at some point. Causing too much unseen damage, I'm bound to wreck everything around me. Another parasite to be, or have been, dead and reborn. Observing myself disintegrate each day, waiting for the day I am no more. It feels like it's been so long but time's ticking and in time, I should be gone. I hope I'd be gone.
Do you remember how it felt, to walk on shaky legs with the urge to bang your head on the wall right next to you as you bit the inside of your cheeks forcing your tears back in? Remember the amount of pills you took the night before and added the morning behind your desk? Or the red lines on your arms you didn't bother to cover any longer. Do you remember bawling your lungs out in silence choking on air and mixed feelings as everybody else slept soundly? Or the time you contemplated ending everything once and for all. The faces that popped into your head while you're at it, either the reason or the salvation.
It feels like the first time. I've never heard too many desperate I love yous at once, with hints of "please stay". Do you ever think about the moments people forget to need you? No one ever truly needs me. It's an incredible feeling to be asked to stay in such a subtle but firm way. So confident. It breaks my heart to even mean anything to anyone, when I'm bound to lose it all in the end. How does it feel like to become someone's life support? I wouldn't know. I'm always either just a phase or a faded memory. Sometimes unneeded, most times for lessons forgotten.
I'm going to stay in bed as I wither. You'll come visit me when you can, with everybody else's approval. I hope you get to lay with me. Calmly I'll tell you everything. Starting off awkward, sobbing by the climax, ends in silence. Everything I know, everything I've kept, everything I've always wanted to say, I'll spill it all out. Hopefully I can. In those moments please say nothing, please don't shed a single tear and leave me when I'm done. Leave me in my broken and fragile state, hurt. So it wouldn't be so hard for me to decide to go. Give up on me. You'll get the best after.
I fear latching on to you, not wanting to let go, when I have to. Forgive me for gripping on too tight, I suffocate you. Forgive the uncomfortable moments you have to go through when I weep in front of you. Forgive me for wanting to hold on to you and my dreams of forever. I've never felt more special than when you worry, when you ask and love me. I've never felt more happy more grateful and more devastated at the same time. Some things don't happen twice and that scares me. But I'll love you, remember that I do.
If I remind you that I love you tonight, treat you a bit more special than I usually would, tell you I'd always be here if you ever need me and that things are going to be okay, have no fear.
There's no rush. Tonight it gets calmer than most. It's not going to be as hard as it might the next day. Nothing's going to happen. It's just you in the dark. Stop swallowing it whole. Wash off the stains. Take a bath and clean your face. Put on something pretty, what you usually would. You no longer drink tea, tonight you'd want to sleep. I hope you've cleaned your room, say your prayers, finish all the letters. You want to be remembered the way you were, when you were much better, easier. I could write a million apologies over what I've become yet it wouldn't mean a thing to me when nothing would be changed by it. I cut people off for their own good too, they wouldn't understand. Though I wish I wasn't selfish enough to keep some to myself, but I am. Forgive me.
Excuse how I look, I'm not easy on the eyes. Excuse my stench, I haven't bothered to even try these days. Goodbyes are never easy but it happens no matter how careful you are. It's never anyone else's fault but my own. It seems ungrateful of me but believe me when I say it's been the happiest time of my life to be around the people I choose to still stick with. Even on the disastrous days, even if it is the reason behind my state of mind or how I am, I couldn't be happier to know I was given a chance to feel it all. Everybody I know deserves more than me. I can't repay anything anyone has done for me, I wish their time was never wasted on me. I'm sorry for any and every pain I've inflicted. Not everyone belongs, we're just odd and undeserving. I'm the only "we're" there is.
There are still days where I think of that time of my life, where it was the worst state I've ever been in. It's funny how you could hate what you were in those days, yet still, still there are days where you would look back and for some reason miss it. Missing how sick and dead you were, how you could spend days in bed weighed down by all the guilt and sadness and still you choose to lay there and allow yourself to rot instead of trying to work things out, not that you can.
Some days, I just- I hate, I despise, I try to find a word more hurtful than those two, to be thrown at myself but even then I get stuck. So bad I imagine myself running off a balcony each time. Dead or alive, we've never been less selfish so why bother. But I'm not 13 and struggling to find myself again, I'm not 15 and going in and out of my mind. I'm everything in between, I'm the days I get through. I don't live anymore, I try to get through alive. It gets chaotic in my head sometimes, fearing everything. Have I been coming off too calm or did I make it too obvious what and where my weaknesses are, I can't tell or bother. I've been searching, finding, and missing more pieces of me. Lose some gain some, but it feels like everything I gain isn't mine to keep. There's always this thin wall between it all and me. How do you tell yourself to love yourself when you no longer know which is you, or what you are?
It's exhausting, all this get along, all this take a breather to suck it in and put it aside. It's tiring, getting up everyday doing nothing because you're incapable when you'd rather sleep and leave everything until it all leaves you. It's draining and god it's starting to get to my head again, the thoughts no, it's the feels, it's always all these emotions. Have I mention that before? It seems to be the only thing I've ever really talked about these days. If tears are the words you've kept inside and have lost, or the feelings you've shoved back down your arse, then mine seems a bit vigorous. Some mornings too much for me, some nights more than I could let myself handle. I still have my moments, where I sense a relapse soon to happen, to give up, but I wouldn't let myself. You tell yourself you've gotten this far but god open your eyes and look around, you're nowhere close to where you want to be. You're nothing more.
I've lost my everything, I've lost who I am, I've lost my spark, I lost my purpose, I lost my mind. It's bloody shit to know there are people who loves you more and cares but your mind won't let them get through. It's bloody shit to think that they can't help and god you wish you were better, you wish you were better, you wish you were better you wish so badly that you get better. Do you know how it hurts to see your dad's face drop as everybody else is talking about their now well off children, and your mum having to cover up for you when her friends stick their noses in your business, and you're always avoiding people and questions you feel uncomfortable to answer. You're that one person who stays lock inside avoiding the whole world when you know you're going to have to face it one day. You have a little sister that's going through things you might not know anything about because you're too busy with your own shit, and a brother that needs the little sister he once knew so well and the cousin who looks up to you that you've planned a future with, to take care of her.
You're this empty shell living in a place no longer familiar to you. I wake up every day, for everyone else. I still care and I still love and I know I'm not in the best condition, that I've gotten far worse than I've ever been but I'm trying so hard not to lose it again. I'm trying so hard to stay in control but I'm so further away from everything and everyone once again backing up and backing off. Some days I wish I didn't hold onto anything, it makes it easier to go. Some days I wish I couldn't care anymore. I'm losing my stand, losing myself.
Going back to my older posts, noticing the times where I wrote more about him.
Happy, sad, lively, alone, devastated, blessed, everything at once.
Everything. It's a lot, as big as the word "forever". Isn't it ridiculous how you forget how much it had hurt or could hurt until they leave you (again)? I don't think he has figured it out yet, how much he still means to me. Silly cow, that little shit. I hope he doesn't forget. Losing people, is one thing. Losing him, takes it to another level. A level I'd like to stay as far away from. Does it still not make sense to call it love? Is it still too early, too childish, rather preposterous? He's that second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh-time thought, before coming to a conclusion, yet it's going to happen so fast. It's odd, how everything started and the amount of times it has ended. The more involved you get, the harder it is. Most times, it's just me. Either it's my mind or my head, I'm pretty sure there's not much difference.
I don't think he gets it. I don't think he gets him. He might not be able to see it still. He's everything, I repeat it like a daily prayer. He is. From your first or second glance, you might have already got hooked by his looks, saying it from everybody else's or most people's perspective. Although from mine, it isn't at all that. You're going to notice that hint of shyness in his friendliness that's somewhat somehow attractive in someways. From there you're going to notice how cute he can get. You're going to notice how different it is when he smiles and doesn't. You're going to love it every time he does and still miraculously see how flawless he manages to look when he doesn't. You're going to notice the little things, how he moves, his ways, what he wears or how he speaks. He's going to be one of the most polite and nice guys you've ever met. You're going to want to get to know him.
You're going to see how amazing he is, how he does so much and has these visions, imaginations and dreams he's trying to achieve and make it become reality. You're going to want to hear everything he has to say, you're going to wish every dream he has, every plan for the future he makes, you'll be in or at least be apart of it. You'll start wanting to be there more, filling each empty space there is in his life. You're going to want to be there when he's down, you're going to feel like driving or walking to his house if you have to, just to see him and make him feel better and special because god knows how amazing it is to just be there with him. You're going to miss his voice, his tone for different things. You're going to laugh at how stupid or ridiculous he acts. Not that he's funny, it's just how he is sometimes. You laugh at the cuteness, or how silly it is when he speaks and how in love you get when you're with him.
You're going to see his soft side, his irritable side, his weaknesses and capabilities but god, you're going to love him anyway. You wish you didn't, you wish you couldn't, but you do and you could, you will. You're going to love it when he tells you how beautiful you are or praise you because trust me, you're going to wish he does it when he doesn't, you're going to feel the difference in how it feels when he stops. You're going to love how he lets you hug him and he hugs you back, you're going to miss his pauses just to kiss your forehead or tell you that he loves you. You're going to remember how he looks when he sleeps, how his head is tilted a bit upwards with one side of his cheek pressed agains't his pillow. You're going to still love him in the morning when he wakes up and how unbelievably angelic he still looks compared to you when he does. You're going to miss everything when it doesn't happen anymore. You're going to remember how everything feels and how it breaks your heart when it no longer does. I miss everything about him, I miss him all the time,
Maybe it's when you're in a rush, as you suddenly stop yourself to see, stall, wait, and- smile at the looks of him. Here he's with you now. The realisation that you're with him, still with him. This hand, this body, this feel, this vibe, the wind. A few seconds to minutes, the thoughts rushed into your head; will this matter a few days, weeks and months later? Does it matter now, does it mean more because it's happening or because it's with you? But do I really care, do I really plan to ruin it now? No. I gave out a tiny laugh, at the worries. It's too much to think about. Smiling at my view, I couldn't be happier to be held by the arms of the boy, who makes me feel at home.
Sometimes I pretend you're always there. Like you never leave, as if you know it all and it's amazing that sometimes it becomes reality. And how other times, it doesn't. Sometimes I have to go back, and let you go. Each time, you let me go.
I can't tell you why people leave, or why they disappear when you need them. I can't tell you why we feel guilty for the things that makes us human, or why some people don't apologise despite their own awareness of their guilt. I can't tell you the real reason why you have to keep going when no one you know makes it seem worth it, or why you shouldn't stop because you're really doing it for yourself.
I can't tell you how it feels or teach you to forgive anyone over your own free will. I can't tell you that doing what I do, makes me happier but it's not about you sometimes, it's how nice it feels when you do it for others. I can't tell you nothing is your fault but I can tell you not everything is. I can't tell you to keep holding on, just because it seems wrong and selfish not to, because I've been where you've been.
I can't tell you why people choose other things over you, as they do to me as much as the times I chose them over everything else. I can't tell you that you wouldn't stop, because you might. Who knows one day it wouldn't be worth the trouble- putting yourself in a pathetic miserable state any longer, maybe you just need to know, that some endings are new beginnings.
I have lived my life loving food. All kinds of food from nasi briyani to lemang and hamburgers, pizzas to sushi. Raw, baked, steamed, fried, I wouldn't mind trying it all. Then came the day, a time, where things change. I wasn't as fond of it the same way. Food was a bore. It was none of my interest. Like everything else, it started shifting into something else. I abhor the changes but I lived feeding to it.
But then I met far.
He eats. EATS. Reminding me so much of what I was; the passion for food and consumption without any worries or guilt, the love for all those nutrients. It hit me hard on the face, of what I've been missing and god I needed it all back. I wanted it all back. I absolutely love his positivity and how he encourages me to eat what I want when I want it. All that he says or tells me about food, myself or my intake, never once, made me feel bad about how I was or how I could be if I ever got better. My weight has never been any of his concern even if I gained a bit, I was told. The way he puts things, makes it mean so much to me. It drives me into trying. Regardless of the times I failed or chicken out.
I want to get better. I want to be able to eat with him instead of watch. I want to go on lunch dates or dinners, share snacks or whatever that's food related. I want to do this. I wish I can. I hope so. I really do.
I am exhausted. Mentally and emotionally drained. I am tired. I am tired. I am tired. I am tired. I am tired. I am what words can't explain, I am scribbles you draw when you're blank as a new sheet of paper with the urge to making art, I am the mess in my room, I am the random words that make no sense when put together, I am your 3 am- wanting - to - talk - to - someone - no - longer - there - feels, I am your 3 days straight without sleep, I am the food you eat for the sake of staying alive, I am the guilt you've never felt until one day it hits you like a truck and drags you by the feet, I am the nags your mum burst out, I am the liquid paper that ran out, I am the shitty eraser on that shitty 2B pen you used to buy and get as a kid, I am, I am heartbroken.
If your feelings mean anything to anyone, why doesn't it kill them, to know that they've done anything to hurt you and most importantly, why do it over and over again?
You gave every bit of love you've left,
Before the time came, before you went.
Who would know? Who would notice but the ones who pays attention. Get mad, be sad, get emotional, act normal, do what you do, go be you. Don't give them a single clue, tell it to none. They're going to be okay. You on the other hand, might not. Step by step you're reaching the edge.
Isn't it a bit odd, suspicious? How the most neurotic seems rather calm over the things they normally would get frantic over. How much love can you give out to everyone you care about, before you stop caring for them at all..
Some days things are fine. I have my guard up, and I'm so strong. And then some moments I get flashbacks, I get a thought or two, then a paragraph and it makes me sad to think about it. Not that I want to, but it happens. And I'm here thinking I'm always giving everyone everything I've got every piece of me and loving them too much and all. While they have more. They have nothing to lose, while I would lose everything.
Thing is, you can't blame them. You can't change people. You can't make them love you or want you the way you want them to, the way you do. It's as if you're always theirs, totally hyped up about the idea of calling them yours, however some days or at some point, they don't even think about calling you theirs, and you know it that, they're not yours anymore.
Practicing my old ways. Not too further back, not too young-
the one in the middle.
It's a drag isn't it, that the more you share about yourself, the more you open up, the more a person keeps their distance from you, or better yet runaway. Maybe it's true, you can love so much but not get back the same love in return so don't forget to love yourself, before it all ends again just to start over and end once more. Everyone else can still have you, even once they lost you, but you- you're on your own. It's funny thinking it was ever safe to be who you are, think the way you think and feel all that you feel, while juggling a relationship with someone you've to take care of too, without you being taken care of. Maybe that's how parents feel. It's such a shame how we can't always see what we have, even when it's gone. It's safe to say, you're safer alone.
Unless you're lucky enough. When it comes to these things,