FIG 1: to be true

This all feels too foreign to me now, this site, this keyboard, the sound of me typing—I had told myself somewhere between the last two years to just start writing true—to stop leaving behind details or scratching the surface clean. But alas, this girl, as she always do, have been defeated by fear and crumpled with anxiety that she hasn't written anything genuine or even remotely constructive for the last year but rather just a number of unfinished attempts to nurse a broken heart. Here's another one of those. See, i'm getting there.

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So where do i start? The last year has been crazy, intense, wonderful, beautiful, sad, all kinds of adjectives, good and bad. I read somewhere that people are able to write the truest when they are sad—i guess I'm not one of those people. When i found myself crippled to an almost death with self-loath, I tried to put my feelings into words but my hand remained in pause and my mind caught up in jumble of lousy words—perhaps in a sly state of declination. I have so many drafts in this blog that i couldn't publish because i was scared. And so that started my long relationship with unwritten words.

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You see, even if I knew I wasn't okay, I didn't want to be a burden. I was mum about it, because i thought the more people know, the more it has to be true, and i was still in a place of complete denial then. But if there's one thing more constant in this world, that's curiosity, right? No matter how much I want to hide it (and I think i did so well with that), the cut turned out to be deeper than I realized...

  ...I needed to be honest with myself, I was heart broken.

To tell you the truth, I never saw this coming too—not this type of ending at least—most especially not from the boy i once loved the most. So when it happened i found myself in a sudden world of hysteria. Which way should i go? What feelings should i prioritize? I fumbled hard to write everything because i felt everything ALL. AT. ONCE. I probably even acted like a fool. Looking back to it now, I acted like a damn fool.

If i have to tell one thing it's this: I've carried the weight of my sins on my shoulders, thought about things i could've done differently, words i wished i said instead, but even then i can't let myself be told i'm still loved while another girl is already waiting patiently in his bed. That was the turning point for me, the raw jolt in my heart and the abrupt realization that what i was fighting for isn't worth fighting for anymore. No matter how painful, I just knew i needed to get out that hole, to save myself from further humiliation and from building more silly pipe dreams. You see, that's not my thing. I'm never one to like that kind of mess and so i gathered all my remaining strength and dignity and stayed away. It was too much for me to handle, let alone believe that actually happened. I needed to step back and just allow myself to feel all these feelings i've been pushing away since.

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This time last year my feelings would've come crashing down like waves, destroying every corner of tranquil i build over and over again. But as cliché as this may sound, through owning up to my mistakes and acknowledging my pain, i found a different side of me i didn't know i had. In a way, that's probably something i needed to go through so i can figure out just what the heck i'm capable of without my personality constantly attached to someone else. It was a good seven years of my life though and i'm nothing but thankful for that. There are, indeed, more interesting chapters after a long love's demise than just focusing on the tragic ending.

I still don't know what to say on how i find peace in reflecting with gratitude for the lessons learned (the easy and hard way!) and to the boy i used to write about. I guess, i came into a point where my healing mattered more than wanting to inflict pain to those who have given me pain. And that this vulnerability isn't something to be ashamed of. It's just so, so, so easier this way than harboring negative feelings. Those days where every little thing is a constant reminder of my past has been sporadic lately, so i've had plenty of easy nights and sunrises—silently washing my sorrows clean and my mind and heart working like i've never felt it before. I still can't escape those moments of course, but i have kindred spirits who have told me it will last a long time so i got a bit of a head start. 😜 They pass me by quicker now and i take solace in knowing full damn well that i still have a whole lot of love to give even when i'm not loved back. And that there are still many ways to heal the broken waiting to be discovered. I've said it before, and i'll keep saying it again and again: i may have lost a love, but love hasn't lost me. I still think love is a beautiful thing.

I don't write about a certain boy anymore. It's been weird, and great, and sad, and different, and weird some more to say the least but in return i learned to write for myself.

Things i've been filling my soul with: travelling, eating good food and writing more

Love and light,