THE DAY OF THE FORTY-FOUR SUNSETS

Dear Internet Strangers,

It has been a tough time. If you read my recent posts, you'd know what I went through. The short of the short of it is that I lost a friend, I lost that friend's trust, I lost a love and I lost myself. It had been emotionally overwhelming and distressing on my part, and though I've talked to a few close friends about it, the best way in which I'm dealing with it is through writing.

I know that I can't keep writing about him, but maybe I do it because it's all I have of him that I can destroy. I already lost him and I already threw and deleted everything that concerns him or reminds me of him, and so for the past few days I've just been venting the sadness out through my writing. It's not a hundred percent healing process, and at other times it's not even healthy. The other night I wrote a piece telling him to fuck with his life, but then just last night I wrote another one about missing him. I have not allowed myself to miss him anymore, yet it was out there - so raw, so forgiving, so humble. I wanted the hate to come back. It was a horrible feeling, but it was better than helplessness. 

I try to remember his cruel words, his tired voice, the lackluster look in his eyes while I was crying, the way he pushed my hands away when I was trying to hold his, and finally - for the past months when we were together, all the pretense and exasperation that he has to deal with me. 

He never said this, but I know in the back of his mind, he must be so relieved to have finally gotten rid of me. I didn't even have to ask him to steer clear from my path, it was something that he can do so naturally. This is not self-pity, this is the truth. He was worse than all the other men I've ever dated, and I say worse because all the other men didn't get through after the first or second date. I'd always call it off if I didn't feel like it, or they'd always just simply fade away. Fine with me. The quicker you disappear, the lesser the emotional involvement. No problem.

But him - he made it last quite longer than expected. Along with mega patience skills, he was a great pretender. He was patient with my craziness, my masculine tendencies, my potty mouth and my pinches. He pretended to like my poetry and my company when the truth was that he was lonely and he needed someone to crack him up while his love was a thousand miles away. That is the most painful sentence I've ever written and I don't know what I ever did to deserve being treated that way. He wasn't even just anybody, you know. More than anything, we were friends first. That's why it hurts the way it does. We were friends first, but still he allowed it all to happen. A friend will never hurt you this way. 

This is the last time that I'll be writing about this. It was necessary for me to write, to let it all out, even if it's just to strangers from the internet halfway around the world, but the emotion-filled writing has to end somehow. And this is where it ends. 

This is also the last post from this blog. I can't write something fresh with all the sad energy filled in here, and I also can't delete all the sad posts because they were a part of me, of the things I feel and the way I see them being at a low point in my life. I feel the need to create a new blog for creative posts with less darker, less personal themes. When the time is right, I'll visit this blog again and read all the emotions I've locked in here. Maybe I'd then just laugh about it or cringe at my being such a fool. But I tell you, at this point, there was no exaggeration needed for all those posts.

Dear internet strangers, protect your hearts. Seek the truth before it's too late. Love your potty mouth. Don't ruin love by wanting it so much, or faking it so much. Never hurt a person, even those who deserve it. Most of all, stay away from assholes. Learn how to spot one even before he opens his mouth, and if you find one, tell him to fuck himself and steer him away from you and your friends. Karma happens to assholes - this is a convenient little truth. 

So this is goodbye. I won't be giving you the address of my new blog in here. If you're meant to find me somewhere else, you will. Which means that if you look hard enough, if you find a way, you will find me. I am taking my wounded, fractured infinite blank book somewhere new, in a land without hate or pretense, and I hope to find you there soon. When I do, I hope you and I are better. 

DISTRESS SIGNAL

I am not crying all the time anymore

When appropriate I am still the same old firecracker

Who says the strangest, silliest jokes

And pulls off the prettiest dimpled smile

When inside me there is a storm brewing

Inside me, an earthquake

People are running outside of buildings

And some under tables in helpless panic

Inside me, a sinking ship, a plane crash

Sometimes it’s a mother mourning for her unborn child

Other times it’s as simple as a paper cut

You don’t understand; pain is universal

Loss happens everywhere and I assure you

I know loss like the back of my hand

So just because you have not seen me breaking down

Doesn’t mean I didn’t have a rough night

Or that I slept soundly like a baby

Or that I never spent an extra ten minutes

In the bathroom stall an hour ago

Trying to compose myself together

Because everywhere inside me

There is a bomb ticking off somewhere in Hiroshima

Just let me put that smile out there

As it explodes

Note: This is in reply to a friend who thinks I am full of pride and that I won't admit that I have lost just because I act normally everyday post-worst-bus-ride, post-worst-phone-call. 

SOFT LIKE WATER

Today I am soft and yielding like water

That if you slip your fingers through me, I will sway

Today I miss you

And i wish you were still joking about my eyes

Or my legs, or my deadly fingers

I wish I could still pinch your stupid arms 

I wish you were still my friend

I wish I was a stronger person than this.

F U VERY MUCH

If I pretended enough that you never existed, then I hope I’ll soon believe it enough, because the way I loved you with all of my heart and the way you simply kicked me to the curb was a great loss in my life. To know that you are still breathing out there somewhere is such a terrible curse. I pretend you are dead, I pretend you are fiction, I pretend you are every ghost hiding under every bed I sleep in. I don’t know which will make me feel any better, but in my head, you don’t deserve to live.

So give me this. Don’t ever come back. If you see me in a crowd, you blend. If you are walking in my direction, you turn away. If we are in the same room, you disappear. This is the most ridiculous thing you've ever read, but it’s better than forgiveness.

You said you never planned this. You said you never meant to break my heart. You said you are sorry things turned out this way. You said it’s for the best. Go ahead, why don’t you try and taste all the poison coming out of your mouth? The truth is not something you stretch for your better convenience, hon. The lack of urgency to which you hurdle me with words that will save me is a horrible crime. You waited eight months, asshole. 

The fuck with your life.

SORRY I'M NOT SORRY

Mistakes

I’ve been listening to Staind's song So Far Away the whole day. Given the obvious fact that Aaron Lewis' singing voice is painstakingly perfect for this song, my favorite part is the chorus when he sings, “All the mistakes, one life contained, they all finally start to go away”.

Wish I could just fast forward to a time when I would be able to sing this with heart. Right now it’s all just a lingering hope, a far-away dream, a grieving fantasy.  

Trusting a wolf in sheep's clothing is the first mistake that I want to go away. 

Luna

The moon is hanging outside my window right now. I remember having written a poem about it a few months ago. I called it Luna. I called it the light of all lights. I called it lovely and mysterious and soulful and yet, and yet…why are you so beautiful up there like that, yet so lonely, like you wanted me to cry for you?

I look at it now but with a fractured light, remembering things I’m not supposed to remember. I had made the mistake of sharing such a tender, fragile, intimate metaphor as the moon with someone who only saw it as a yellow light. Luna, I tell you, after all this time, it was always only us. Always only just us. 

Hi, My Name Is Time

Yesterday I was having an intimate dinner with three friends at a far, tucked away home-slash-restaurant with a royal blue gate. Pretending (yet ostentatiously failing at it) that it was not about me, one of my friends gamely told a story of a broken-hearted girl and the many characters which repeatedly rejected her after her heart was smashed into smithereens, namely: beauty, happiness and sadness. In the end, after quite a while, the girl finally found solace and peace in the island of a mysterious man who in the story whose name is revealed to be “Time”. The end.

Morale of the story which we tried so hard to pretend was not mine: only time heals all wounds.

It’s a cliché but it’s true for those who really needed it. I find it somehow gratifying that even though my friend found some humor in my situation, he was one of the very few who injected in me words that I needed to hear when all I could think of are those that really hurt: deceit, pretense, used, forget, regret, doubt, mistake, hate. Even the word trust now hurts. Even the word hope. Even the word love.  

The Word Sorry

Even the word sorry is sorry it ever became a word in any language in the world to permit and subsequently pardon us our wrongdoings. People make up words for everything just to be convenient. 

But when will we learn that there never has to be a word for everything? Especially sorry. 

Especially sorry. 

AN IDIOT'S GUIDE TO DISAPPEARING

Remember this:

You must give back what you took

I must have back what I gave

Arrange this room as it was before you entered

And never touch a single thing again

This is how you say sorry 

This is how you walk back out the door,

motherfucker.

FYI

I have a Tumblr account for my short posts - photos, music, reblogs, quotes. Longer and more personal poems and prose will be posted simultaneously here and on my Tumblr. Thank you and I love you, bloggers and tumblrs! :)