As easy as a drag;
I throw it all away.
Albums kept and chat logs long
In this bin it’ll all stay.
To rot – like the past,
Grief-stricken I am no more.
Yet above all else, still I am hopeful
Maybe one day, I’ll hit ‘Restore’.
O, the rain, I feel, your tears
But with despair, comes, joy.
In our souls, you, comfort.
In our hearts, you, spark
Our urge, to love, in return.
For the past few months, I have longed to tell you what I feel.
It was something which I let sink in, before finally deciding to admit it once and for all – how the late nights with you were something I looked forward to; (no matter how random the topics were, as long as it was with you, it mattered not to me at all) how I instinctively joke that I missed talking to you whenever I’m not online; that I would try to keep my eyes open early in the morning just to stay awake when we talk (which fails alot, since I fall asleep, still); how I keep smiling when I look at your picture in my phone; how I have always tried to set the perfect date to ask you out.
But as John Lennon had said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans”, I was busy making too many plans. And life moved on. You moved on.
Now, here I am at the sidelines hearing your stories, stuck in the ‘zone’.I laugh when you tell me your stories, but I cringe inside and brings me in an emotional turmoil which is unnecessary and illogical. I wanted you to stop – but I knew it was something important to you. How can I be so blind?: You were into someone else, and I was merely someone you cherished in a different way.
And this time, I thought I’ve know you better than someone you just went out on a date with. In the headlines of this torn drama of mine, in a pedestal where I placed you, so I can keep you, my friend. I marvel at the view. I smile in your presence.
But in the end, I was only looking at a puddle.
Written for Truth Thursdays. This blog exists to connect people through writing. To initiate something honest, thoughtful and meaningful. Wanna know more about this awesome thing I just participated in, read it here. :)
Lord, I forgive within my heart
Bitter feelings from the start –
The pain, the rage, the shattered parts,
Ill-kept emotions, now I thwart.
To the ones who crossed me, time & again
I harbored contempt since way back when
May haunted mem’ries fade and then
This soul may heal as You intend.
When I look in the mirror, I see nothing.
A blank slate. A newly created canvas. Emptiness. Nothing.
Long have I been hoping to see something from this void that I am in. A future, perhaps? Something which is to be foretold, something I should have been looking forward to in this lifetime of mine? Or something that should have unraveled to me a long time ago?
I remember having dreamt of something like that back then – my elusive vision of what I would be a few years from now: a happy home, a great career, someone to be with when my hair turned grey; an early hike to the mountain summit, to see the rising sun above the horizon, or watching the sun set on the beach while holding hands with the person I will spend my days with.
Was the dream to abrupt to be fulfilled?
In this dark room, with only the lights coming from the small square of a window, the lights of the city illuminate this damp cell. With only the lost hopes of a bright future, I live out the shattered days.
I always saw myself as a tough guy.
Despite my apparent choice of preference, I get a lot of compliments from the people around me with regards to being brave and confident when it comes to dire situations. Being tough, for me, wasn’t just a scale of physical strength. I believed, that acknowledging the fear that we all have, and confronting them had to be my measure of courage. Brute force was not my thing. And neither was harboring fear towards others.
Growing up and having to settle on different places – meeting different kinds of people, making good friends, and getting the attention of some bad guys along the way, somehow added to my learning experience that the world is more of a jungle, rather than the paradise it was once known to be. I had to teach myself how to be “street-wise”, and how to mingle with the people outside my comfort zone.
People saw my independent side – the guy who always had his planner handy, ticking off all the activities he was able to accomplish; the guy who never settled for Plan B; the guy who would try to reason out his way with things, as long as he know he’s right and that it’s his right to do so; the guy who never forgets to ask for His Guidance.
But for all you know, I have somehow resented this “resilience” of mine. I feel as if nobody bothers to ask for me, for how I actually am. That no one really understood. That no one has connected to me in away that I was hoping for a very long time.
And despite this epitome of strength that I wield, underneath it is a scared little boy, who longs to be heard.
After seeing this long flat line on my Dashboard due to my inactivity for more than a month, I start to wonder what I should be sharing on my 150th post. I’ve been gone for 1 1/2 months- busy with all the new duties I had to undertake as a President of an Academic Organization, and struggling with yet another downcast moment when I once thought that my new found love, sought to last.
Though the fruits of my progress were sweet – the products our collective efforts, the stress has started to take its toll on my health. So in despite of my feverish state right now, I continue to post this, because I definitely miss my readers *smiles*. When I get back on my feet, I’m sure to post more of my new stuff. I hope to continue with my craft and share it again to the world once more.