It’s not fair that even though we are no longer together, the anticipation of your presence still has this effect on me. You see, the problem isn’t me, and it isn’t the poor unknowing boys who have fallen in love with an already broken-hearted girl. The problem is you.
It’s not fair that even though we are no longer together, there are unforgettable memories that I have lingering in a part of my head; memories that I have, and unconsciously use to compare these boys against. You see, the problem isn’t me. I am more than ready to give you up—but my heart won’t let me release you, my body won’t let me forget you—and I have tried to. Believe me when I say that I have tried and tried and tried and tried to erase you from my already complicated life, and yet your presence is ever felt.
It’s not fair that seeing your pictures today brought back an incredible rush of all the emotions I thought I had already overcome. It’s making me crave your voice, your smile, your touch, even your attention. I could pull my hair out trying to describe to anybody who is willing to listen the way I feel about you. I love you. I loved you.
Hopelessly.
Completely.
Unconditionally.
And even though you’ve hurt me, you remain the love of my life. That perfect human that I have placed on a pedestal.
It’s not fair that even though we are no longer together, deep down in my mind, I keep waiting on you. It’s like a mind disorientating drug. My own special drug. You are tattooed in my heart, and in my head. You are still a part of everything I do, say, think, and write.
He doesn’t compare to you.
It’s not fair that even though we are no longer together, I am trapped. Yes, trapped. Because even though I do care about him, it is you that my heart beats faster for. It is you that slow songs make meaning for.
Isn’t it unfair?
I want to know if it will always be like this. I hear love heals all wound—I have had love. I hear time heals all wounds—I have had time, and yet my wounds do not heal.
It’s not fair that even though we are no longer together I still need you. Unbelievable but it’s like an abuse. I need you for survival, like a dose of fresh air when one has been trapped in an airless room for too long. I need you so much that I think even he is starting to see through my lies.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Phase 1
I’m going through a phase.
The thing is I don’t know how long it’s going to last, or even when I’m going to come out of it. I don’t know what, or how, it started—it could be because of you, him, or even me.
I also have absolutely no idea if I’m going to come out of this a better person, or worse than I was before. Am I going to grow spiritually? Emotionally? Or psychologically?
I don’t know any of this. All I know is that I’m going through a phase, and the truth is, I don’t know if you can come with me. I don’t even know if I want you to come with me. Because in the end, when I think about it, I realise that maybe YOU are my phase.
Isn’t it possible that you, who I once wanted around me, as my daily daily bread, has turned into the last person I want to see? The problem is that I think I have outgrown you. Not outgrown you as in more mature, but outgrown you as in I don’t need you, or want you, anymore.
And it is sad, so sad, because I know this is just a phase, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that after this phase I will need you again, I will want you again. I only hope that you’ll be there at the end, waiting for me, waiting for us.
The thing is I don’t know how long it’s going to last, or even when I’m going to come out of it. I don’t know what, or how, it started—it could be because of you, him, or even me.
I also have absolutely no idea if I’m going to come out of this a better person, or worse than I was before. Am I going to grow spiritually? Emotionally? Or psychologically?
I don’t know any of this. All I know is that I’m going through a phase, and the truth is, I don’t know if you can come with me. I don’t even know if I want you to come with me. Because in the end, when I think about it, I realise that maybe YOU are my phase.
Isn’t it possible that you, who I once wanted around me, as my daily daily bread, has turned into the last person I want to see? The problem is that I think I have outgrown you. Not outgrown you as in more mature, but outgrown you as in I don’t need you, or want you, anymore.
And it is sad, so sad, because I know this is just a phase, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that after this phase I will need you again, I will want you again. I only hope that you’ll be there at the end, waiting for me, waiting for us.
My ill-fated leap of faith
I have taken a leap of faith.
My very first leap of faith, ever, into your once willing arms only to be dropped so abruptly with no fair warning. It is said that no matter how hard you try, you can never do enough—you are going to piss off someone, hurt someone, and let someone down.
I should be disappointed, however, your action is nothing short of my expectation, and I expected you to let me fall.
I have taken a leap of faith that has cost me my heart. I have taken a leap of faith that has cost me myself. And I could regret it, but I don’t, because the consequences of my action is as a result of my lack of responsibility, I could have avoided this.
My leap of faith that you constantly pressured me into taking has finally broken my fall, broken me. And who is at fault? I could blame you, so easily, for warming your way into my heart with your constant lies and sugar-coated half-truths. But you see, I am my own enemy, and the blame of my foolishness resides in me. Because in the end, in the very end, my belief of your lies is a choice that I consciously made, a choice best known to me.
My love for you can be placed on a pedestal; you can be placed on a pedestal as a form of comparism for every other boy, an epitome of perfection necessary for emulation. In my head. And now I know that you are not as different as you once claimed to be, and now I realise how that bare-assed youngster called cupid has mad a gallant fool of me.
Because regardless of the constant whispering of the so-called bad belle people, regardless of the obvious interference of your stubborn past into our fragile tomorrow, regardless of the apparent ways in which you could hurt me, I fell for you.
Falling for you consumed my heart, soul, and body. Falling for you was my leap of faith. Falling for you was my mistake.
My very first leap of faith, ever, into your once willing arms only to be dropped so abruptly with no fair warning. It is said that no matter how hard you try, you can never do enough—you are going to piss off someone, hurt someone, and let someone down.
I should be disappointed, however, your action is nothing short of my expectation, and I expected you to let me fall.
I have taken a leap of faith that has cost me my heart. I have taken a leap of faith that has cost me myself. And I could regret it, but I don’t, because the consequences of my action is as a result of my lack of responsibility, I could have avoided this.
My leap of faith that you constantly pressured me into taking has finally broken my fall, broken me. And who is at fault? I could blame you, so easily, for warming your way into my heart with your constant lies and sugar-coated half-truths. But you see, I am my own enemy, and the blame of my foolishness resides in me. Because in the end, in the very end, my belief of your lies is a choice that I consciously made, a choice best known to me.
My love for you can be placed on a pedestal; you can be placed on a pedestal as a form of comparism for every other boy, an epitome of perfection necessary for emulation. In my head. And now I know that you are not as different as you once claimed to be, and now I realise how that bare-assed youngster called cupid has mad a gallant fool of me.
Because regardless of the constant whispering of the so-called bad belle people, regardless of the obvious interference of your stubborn past into our fragile tomorrow, regardless of the apparent ways in which you could hurt me, I fell for you.
Falling for you consumed my heart, soul, and body. Falling for you was my leap of faith. Falling for you was my mistake.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)