unbelong.

Belonging and not feeling like you belong is a very weird feeling if you think about it.

Here you are in this environment… and you either feel like you fit in or you don’t.

Whether it be because of the people, the weather, the feelings associated with it, the thoughts, or everything combined.

Not belonging is a disheartening feeling,

and you start to wonder whether the universe has some karma against you or just simply wants to kick your ass

or maybe you chose the wrong path or it’s the wrong timing…

whatever it is, it just doesn’t feel right and all of a sudden you want to go to your little safe haven,

back to your warm bed under the covers where you don’t have to interact, see people, and you can just be without getting the nagging feeling that you don’t belong.

and it’s not like anything can change because things already feel written,

it feels like your character has already been finalized.

it feels like you’re stuck being this person, this persona, this character and there’s nothing you can do or say to change it.

maybe not belonging is just working your way through the loneliness and trying to learn to be with yourself for a while.

maybe it’s a feeling that leads to something greater, like this is just the beginning of the story.

but at the same time, you don’t want to look back at this moment and just remember it as a bad time… as a time of unbelonging

it would be like a tainted memory.

you want to remember something greater and beautiful… but it isn’t… it won’t be

you’ll look back and think, “Man, I hated that time of my life”

and you will be so scared to the point where you’ll try to repress those memories every time your mind goes back, and explores that era

trying to immediately hit control + alt + delete until it’s gone, erased for a little while

hoping for it to be erased from your mainframe forever

pleading

praying

wishing

that you don’t remember the bucket of tears you shed in the bathroom stall, hoping no one that walked in saw how long you stayed in the stall or that they paid any mind

that you don’t recall eating along with your phone, watching tv shows to give you a sense of unloneliness as you pass tables full of people and conversations and belonging

that you can bury the looks, the glances, the words, the feelings, the thoughts, of all the anxiety, the world, the people around you will bring when you unbelong

and so maybe you can try your very hardest to write it out of your story,

but it’s a piece of you and it’s such a loud part that it’s hard to forget

and here and there you’re afraid that if you ever leave that feeling,

it’s your worst nightmare,

that one day it’ll come back to haunt you and live within you again.

and it will make you wonder if you deserved the unbelonging. if you deserve it.

or worse,

you’re afraid you’ll never get out of unbelonging

of not fitting in or conforming or not having a group of people having your back…

and maybe you never really, truly will.

maybe you’ll never get over eating lonely meals with a mask hiding your unsaid words as an imaginary clock ticks its nonexistent seconds away

never get over the feeling that the people around you are not the people you should surround yourself with and do not have your best interests at heart and you’re just playing a part so you won’t be alone

never get over the burden of being unwanted, unneeded, un-anything.

or maybe

you will.

houses with the lights on.

As I walk around the neighborhood with my dad and my uncle as the sun begins to set,

I notice all the houses with their blinds left open and their living room lights flooding into the street.

Now if this was my dad and this was our house, he would have yelled at us.

My dad doesn’t like our blinds being open during the daytime because people can very obviously see inside your house.

I grew up with that mindset as well and don’t like the feeling of people being able to look inside.

I never really noticed the people who leave their blinds open or don’t, why would I?

But quarantine got me thinking about the houses that leave their lights on.

And I started to wonder.

This spring, my dad cut the trees in the backyard.

This gave us the perfect view of our neighbors who live behind us, and vice versa.

These neighbors are different.

They keep their blinds open with the lights on through the night

Now, I am mindblown cause this is a whole different world for me.

I have the perfect view of their kitchen/dining room.

And I find myself looking and wondering sometimes,

of course, non-creepily,

what their world is like.

I find it interesting that I’m so warped into this house, my home, I know its inner workings, I know every inch and space, I know the thoughts that this house hold.

But here’s a house not even 15 feet away from me, and I know nothing about it.

It’s just a building to me.

But that light in their window that I can see from my bedroom,

I can wonder.

I can wonder do they have a big dining room table where they sit for meals?

Do they have a big fridge covered in magnets and pictures or calendars?

Is their house a home? Or just a space where people live and breathe together?

And as I’m walking through the neighborhood as the sun sets,

I see all these houses with their lights on,

and I wonder as I pass all of them by.

I look, I wonder, and I look to the next one.

It’s as if the soft light that radiates from their window is a blanket of comfort to anyone who walks by.

It piques my already innate curiosity,

to look into a world I know nothing about.

This place is someone’s life encased into four walls.

A family I’ve never met,

but a house that does enough introduction.

I see the layout of their kitchen,

I look at the comfortable chairs or couches.

If that bookshelf is their favorite part,

or if the collage on the wall took a long time to make.

What made them want chairs out on the porch,

or lights decorating the walkway?

If the balcony was already there,

or a home decor daydream come true.

If they wanted a traditional house number on the mailbox

or a fake rock with the numbers carved on it.

What made this house theirs?

I see a house

and wonder if it’s a home.

If there’s love and happiness,

if its appearance on the outside compares to what’s on the inside.

If they leave the blinds open because they’re not afraid of what others see on the inside,

or they don’t care less,

or they want to show off their new decor and neat couch to tv layout,

or maybe they want to offer light into the world.

Maybe they want others to walk by and see a home,

to offer the dream of having that one day.

To have the couch where you watch family movies,

and a long table with comfortable chairs that are reserved for family dinners,

or the chandelier you saw at Ikea that just “fit right” when you saw it and you couldn’t explain it in words.

To dream one day to not just have a house,

but a home.

With a family.

To hope one day that it’ll look like this.

Maybe the houses with the lights on illuminate the future we want to have,

want to share

with the rest of the world.

detached.

it’s weird.

writing used to be my whole life.

i used to write songs after certain things happened, the moment or night that they happened.

i used to be so eager to write a poem once I got an idea in my head.

i used to be so consistent with writing a blog post about my day.

but over the summer, I got no writing done.

why?

because of my future.

I’m getting older and I’m realizing that soon writing isn’t going to be at the forefront for me…

it’s going to be college, studying, getting a job, keeping on track with that job, etc etc

I lost a piece of myself because I believe that it’ll prove no use to me in the future.

is that sad… or ridiculous?

sometimes I just feel so pressured to make something perfect and beautiful in one shot or it’s useless.

and I haven’t said anything to anyone, this is actually my first time saying it out loud.

i wasn’t really affected by not writing over the summer, because I was going out on walks and seeing some friends, doing other things.

but now that school’s started back, the writer in me wants to come out because I have so many feelings and thoughts inside that are definitely not good being kept inside.

life isn’t great for me at the moment,

I have that old whole world is weighing on my shoulder type of feeling because it really feels that way.

and I can’t remember the last time I was 100% honest like this to anything or anyone, and all I wrote were a couple of measly sentences.

I’m so used to not leaving too much of myself out there to anyone, even to my really good friends. in the fear that it’ll make them leave.

and the fact that there is a list in my head of the people who’ve left doesn’t help me.

because even though I thought I had it all figured out why people leave,

it still hurts every fucking time, no matter how much time passes.

and with every time it happens, more and more fear gets sucked into me… and I can’t even be honest with people I shouldn’t be scared of losing… but I guess that fear never goes away no matter who it is.

so here I am at the spiral and I feel so distant from one of the things I love the most, from the one thing that always got me through it all no matter what: writing.

at this point in my life, I thought I would’ve done something more with the things I love to do,

but sadly that’s not true and that’s why I can’t even consider writing

I guess because I feel ashamed in a sense?

I know I’m not 100% me and it’s haunting me and writing about it ultimately won’t make me feel better.

writing about it will just let it be out there, wandering in the space but there would still be no solution.

and writing out all your emotions, your sadness, your anger, your fear, everything… it’s so exhaustive once it’s over and done with and I feel like after that wave washes over for me, it just starts back over for me

but then I look at this blog…

and I see the lonely, scared, anxious, heartbreaking girl I used to be (and sometimes still am) and see how far she came.

and a lot of that has to do with God first of all and also this blog.

this blog was there for me when nobody else was, it was there when I needed it to be and it was there to just give me peace.

writing my thoughts out helped me not lose my frecking mind because there were a lot of stories I wrote about on this blog where had I not, I would’ve been a steaming ball of anger literally shooting out her RBF everywhere she went (as if I don’t already do that but TRUST ME it would’ve been way worse in person).

this blog got me through high school, you know how big of a deal that is? high school.

the demon spawn of this life and I got through it and actually had a pretty nice time in the last year.

because instead of keeping my emotions and feelings in, I wrote them out.

I whipped out my laptop, or my guitar, or my voice and just let whatever wanted to be let out, be let out

whether it was joy, sadness, anger, etc.

and I did it because it made me happy and it felt like me.

sometimes I wanna go back to those days when I first started to blog not to redo the experiences I went through, oh gosh please no. but to have that first feeling of uploading a blog and having a piece of yourself out there but not having to worry about anyone you know seeing it. and instead, strangers saw it, but it was somehow better because instead of judging you, they saw you and understood you. because they were going through it too. they were sad when you were sad and happy when you were happy and vice versa. and you made connections and relationships.

sadly, I don’t have as much time for this blog as high school me did.

but I think taking the time out of my day to do that will give me a piece of myself back.

I want to write again and not care if it’s written (pun unintended but highly appreciated) in my future that this becomes my future.

because frankly, I don’t care.

I just want to write… to write.

to feel like me again in a world that I feel is constantly trying to change me and break me down to something I’m not.

this life is trying to take something out of me and most of the time, I let it… because I’m tired and exhausted and everything in between.

but I want to keep going and to do that, I need my words back. i need me back.

and I intend to get it back, no matter how long it takes.

jealousy.

If you feel conflicted over the success of someone you love here’s what you do.

First

Validate your emotions.

It’s okay to fell like this, you’re only human.

Second

Realize that it’s better having this person in your life then closing them out due to spite.

Third

Your life might feel like it’s headed in the wrong direction right now but that doesn’t mean you have to drag them down with them. You love them.

Finally

Accept that it’s their moment right now. Not yours. Yours will come soon so be patient. I know life might be shitty right not but it would be even worse being envious of someone else’s life, especially if you love them.

Share in each other’s happy moments.

Be each other’s biggest fans.

And don’t give up or give in to the doubt, keep working harder every day.

Also, don’t be too hard on yourself if you feel this way.

Everyone tells you either to do this or that and if you don’t do it their way… you feel guilty.

If you don’t “feel” the proper way about something, you feel like a bad person.

Even though jealousy is a regular human emotion that you can’t really control, like any other emotion.

This is your first life, don’t be so hard on yourself.

And as you’ll soon see, just as you should be there for them,

they will equally be there for you too.

change in small places

All of us are afraid of change

Whether it’s small change or big change.

Big change is scary and loud… But do you even notice small change?

Small change is the change that isn’t really prominent in your life, it doesn’t twist your life into a different direction, you may not even notice it.

It may not be noticeable but that doesn’t mean we’re more comfortable with it.

We’re as comfortable with small change as we are with big changes…

Think about it…

The pizza shop you usually order from

The haircut you never seem to change

The same tennis shows you wear every day because they’re the closest near the door

Don’t get me wrong there may be some things that you change… But there is always that one or many, aspects of your life that you are too afraid to change.

For me, one example would be that whenever I’m at this noodle restaurant, I always get this same order.

Why?

For the same reason anyone does the same thing over and over.

It’s comfortable and safe.

And maybe there is some aspect of us that’s afraid…

afraid that we waste our money on something bad so instead of trying it out, we don’t.

We stick with the norm and shut out the change.

And like I said before, we can do this with anything

Haircuts, clothes, etc.

I remember just wearing this blue sweater all throughout middle school because I was insecure about my immigrant arm hair and I was afraid of what people would say.

Fear.

Fear and change go hand in hand. Change wants you to be afraid. And fear stops you from accepting change. Even if it’s a small change.

You’re afraid of taking that leap.

You’re afraid of trying something new in fear of…

humiliation?

a cranky stomach?

the voice of comfort in your head?

(again I’m only talking small change. Big change is a heavier topic)

What’s stopping you from trying new things?

Sure you might get something horrible,

but you might get something amazing.

It wasn’t until that raggedy blue sweater didn’t fit me anymore and I bought a handful of new sweaters that I realized… I didn’t want to be the “sweater girl” (if that’s even a thing). I was only 13 to 14 and here I was thinking I found the peak of my fashion sense.

I wasn’t even close.

I’m 21 and I’m still figuring it out. I’m probably gonna keep figuring it out until I grow old because it isn’t a start to finish line.

I don’t think anything in life is.

Maybe you had those horrid bangs that you grew out of,

or that horrible fast food place that you visited that gave you diarrhea,

or maybe you wore jean skirts with leggings carrying a hot pink bag (also guilty).

That’s life, it’s trial and error.

Without those errors, those small maybe miniscule changes, we wouldn’t be who we are because yes, even those small changes make us who we are.

And I don’t know about you, but I love trying new things.

Whenever my cousin and I would go out to eat and we would sometimes go to the same place, I would always order something different because honestly, I like small changes.

In my family, my dad gets the same juice from the store every time and orders from the same pizza place. And it’s boring, for me at least.

Because it’s good to have change. It’s good to switch things up a little bit.

Because who knows, maybe through small changes, you’ll discover something you love.

Now concerning big changes… Well, I’m still figuring that stuff out but hopefully it gets easier along the way.

grief: the thread of hope

My new favorite memory is my mom wrapping one of my grandma’s saris on me.

There’s been a black suitcase near the front of my door for the past few months now.

I always wondered what was in it but assumed it was some of my grandpa’s stuff.

It’s been patiently sitting there for months on end, collecting dust and being forgotten like a regular piece of furniture. And along the way, I stopped wondering what was in it.

Until months later, I came out of my room and saw my mom opening the suitcase and pulling out what was in it.

It was my grandma’s saris.

I stood still and watched as she admired her mother’s garments.

She adored them and had a huge smile on my face and I felt like bursting from the seams.

When my grandma passed away, I was always curious about what happened to all her things. I wanted to read her journals, wear her saris, have some piece of her still with me.

And 2 years later, here she was.

My mom asked if I wanted her to wrap the sari around me and I nodded in awe.

I stood still and my mom carefully wrapped the sari around me. Nothing fancy because I was just in my pajamas. My mom called it a rough way of putting on a sari. Since you usually wear a skirt underneath and here I was in my ripped leggings.

I stood patiently as she wrapped it around me, still in awe that my grandma’s memories were etched in these clothes. I couldn’t even believe it at the moment. I stood frozen just memorized by the sari itself and realizing this was my grandma’s. While my mom kept repeating it’s so pretty.

If you knew my grandma, you would know she did everything in a sari. Which isn’t a shock to anyone with Indian grandmas, they do any and everything in a sari.

My mom wasn’t just wrapping a piece of fabric around me. She was wrapping the threads of my grandma’s life around me. And after 2 long years, I finally felt like I could feel her near again. Despite the countless dreams she’s featured in when I go to bed.

And when my mom finally finished this rough draft look over my leggings and baggy hone shirt, she smiled with pure joy and I mirrored it.

My mom then proceeded to take the sari off of me and put it on herself. And I watched as the smile never faded from her face.

It’s funny how much a simple piece of fabric could bring us so much joy and hope.

Then my mom said that she would save them for me and I couldn’t say anything cause I was in so much shock and admiration

And at that moment, my grandma was there. Oh, how happy she would’ve been if she wrapped this first sari for me. How excited, joyous, over the moon.

I don’t really get to share these kinds of moments with my mom but in that moment it’s like all 3 of us were connected.

I’m not going to lie, it has been hard. Especially this week, I don’t know what it is. But this past week, my grandma did visit me in my dreams. Which isn’t unusual. But whenever I have these dreams, dream rebecca knows that she’s leaving soon and can’t be with us forever. Like there’s this longing feeling.

But in this dream, there was no feeling like that. I didn’t know she would be leaving. So when I woke up I realized… wow she’s not here anymore.

Yes it’s been 2 years but it’s so weird having her there and telling dream me it’s ok she’s still here. And waking up and having to realize, wait that isn’t true.

And I’ve realized I’ve had so much guilt over her death. There are so many things I did wrong, so many things that were left unsaid. And I think I’ve been holding onto that guilt for so long that I’m forgetting who she was. I remember all the negatives and none of the positives. And I keep punishing myself and locking myself into a cage for things of the past that I can’t go back and change.

I’m forgetting how she used to teach me how to roll chapatis, and taught me how to cut vegetables.

How she always stayed late cooking at our house so she had to wear one of my mom’s big t-shirts and it fit like a dress on her.

How I always felt a sense of security whenever she stayed overnight at our house.

How she always smiled despite everything, even after falling once and getting a huge bump on her forehead. It didn’t even faze her.

All the concerts, small programs, events that my brother and I had as kids that she went to… even if we were only there for a few mere seconds. She always managed to be there.

And all the other memories that will one day resurface in my memory bank…

I miss her every day and sometimes the grief is so overwhelming and I don’t know. I guess a part of me feels like I shouldn’t remember the good moments. Or my sorrow stops me from remembering all the good. It sucks.

It sucks that grief always sticks.

One thing I will always regret is never telling her that I love her.

So my subconscious repeats it in these dreams hoping they count for something.

But when my mom pulled out those saris and wrapped it around me, it’s like I could let go for a little while, and forget all the guilt I feel.

Because if my grandma saw us in that very moment, she would’ve been so happy.

And that has to count for something.

relationships: why didn’t they stay?

Relationships…

What do you think of when you hear that word?

Friends, family, a significant other?

For me, whenever I hear the word relationships, I just think of two people and their connection.

Relationships are such a captivating and integral part of life. If you think about it, relationships are this special thing that you have with someone, that you’ve built with someone else. It’s yours and theirs. No one else’s. It’s so beautiful…

But with beauty, comes pain.

 

You can’t tell me that every relationship you’ve been in has worked out.

Every friendship, every connection you made, every relationship worked out… because it didn’t.

Maybe you have one or two people on your mind who have left or maybe you have a whole list.

And don’t worry, you’re not the only one.

For me, it’s a lot of people.

And it is… really hard to think about all of them and not make connections about the person I am,

it’s hard to not doubt me. it’s hard sometimes when that voice in my head is telling me that I’m someone not everyone wants to be around.

so it has been hard trying to find a silver lining to everyone who’s left, to every broken relationship, to the ones where it didn’t work out.

But after all this going back and forth with my mind for countless years,

I’ve come to a different conclusion.

After asking myself “Where did I go wrong?” hundreds of thousands of times…

I started questioning what if nothing I did made it go wrong?

What if nothing you did made it go wrong?

maybe it isn’t you sometimes…

maybe it’s just the timing and all the contributing factors.

Maybe it wasn’t the right moment for either of you two.

Maybe neither one of you are in the right capacity to be in this relationship, at this moment, with each other.

Maybe life is telling you that it’s not a good time to get to know someone right now.

Maybe you’re going through something and it’s best not to put hope into something else or it’s best not to commit yourself to this relationship when you need to be working on yourself right now.

Or

Sometimes two people just aren’t good for each other.

Sometimes it’s not because of you, or even the other person, it’s just because it’s destined not to work out.

That isn’t to say you’re not a good person,

you could be the best person in the world

and still not be “right” for someone else.

You both could be two, compatible, good-hearted people… and it doesn’t work out,

just because it doesn’t work out.

Maybe you two aren’t meant to be in each other’s lives, and that’s just the way it is.

You’re not always meant to be with someone else and you may not know it, but it may be better not to have them in your life.

 

And I think these conclusions are something you have to learn as you go through life.

Because if someone told me all of this without personally going through it, I wouldn’t believe them.

I learned this after a toxic friend came back into my life.

And we were both equally toxic to each other.

But when she texted me after nearly 2 years of radio silence with each other, and we sort of resolved our differences and apologized for everything that happened…

I realized… that even though there is no bad blood between us,

it is better not to have her in my life.

not because I’m mad at her or have spite towards her or anything like that,

I just think we’re not meant for each other,

we were toxic to each other and I think that was enough to show that it wouldn’t work out.

and I may be wrong, we may craft this new, amazing relationship together.

but I think we’ve just grown so far from each other and grown as women that we’re at different points in our lives, and those points don’t match each other’s anymore.

our lives are drastically different from when we last talked.

we were drastically different,

and I really appreciate that she came to me and apologized but I really don’t think there’s a future in there for us because we are vastly different from the people we were 2 years ago,

and I do appreciate and love the time we spent together,

she grew to be a good friend of mine

but I realized that doesn’t always last.

and it’s okay.

and that’s the decision I’m making.

and I’m really happy that it can end on a good note instead of a dramatic and painful one.

I mean I could try to mold this new relationship with her, maybe force it with her, but… I don’t think that’s the route that life wants me to take and that’s my viewpoint.

you could see this as like “Rebecca what are you doing? Why aren’t you just going back to that relationship?”

And I really don’t know how to explain it well, I just know that the chapter with her is closed.

because maybe we aren’t the best people when we’re with each other.

maybe the first time around showed us that we aren’t good for each other, we just hurt each other.

and that only happens when it’s this specific person and me.

so it’s better off not going back to that place and trying to make something work that just maybe won’t…

And that’s what I’ve discovered.

 

Then in a different scenario, when someone else left my life,

it made me realize that maybe I was looking for something good after many bad things.

I just came out of a bad situation and I needed something good,

I needed hope.

And that person was there.

They were the “good” after the bad.

So I wanted to hope. I wanted to believe. I really thought life was rewarding me…

but life owes me nothing.

And after a good year and a half,

things started to fall apart.

Why?

maybe it was something they did,

maybe it was something I did.

but thinking about it,

maybe I wasn’t in the right space to be in this good relationship at this point.

I mean I had just come out of a bad situation with certain people and here I was running to other, new people to fix my grievances.

maybe I was telling myself that it was good. so I only saw the good and disregarded the bad until it was too late.

maybe it was on me because I wanted it to be good but it just wasn’t there.

I saw what I needed to see…

and maybe the other person is good and I just took the wrong time to get to know them when I knew I was in a bad place where I needed to heal for myself.

 

If you read my post a couple weeks ago,

I wrote that when somebody does me wrong or something,

I always get the urge to run to someone else.

That’s just something I’m conditioned to do.

And I don’t know why I do it, I guess if someone puts me down, I need reassurance that someone else won’t put me down.

Which is very toxic and isn’t good healing.

So maybe you could be doing something like this in one of your relationships?

Maybe you’re looking for something good during the bad.

And that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.

Of course, you want to socialize with new people once someone has done you wrong.

But I think it’s always important to remember to heal.

Don’t expect someone else to heal you for your grievances, for your past…

I think a lot of the time we forget to heal ourselves, we forget to show ourselves love, and instead, we give someone else that love because we think they need to love us in order to love ourselves,

which is further from the truth.

but in the process of redistributing that love,

we hurt ourselves

or we hurt others.

or we hurt this relationship we built

because we wanted ulterior motives.

we wanted their love instead of ours.

and the relationship crashed and burn because we were too late to realize that the love that we’re looking for comes from us.

but again that’s just a guess of what might be happening,

but it was something that I was doing.

I wanted them to heal me and it wasn’t fair to them.

It wasn’t fair that I didn’t take the time to heal me or love me.

 

And trust me, I know I have a lot of growing to do,

I’m not perfect,

there are many things I have to learn and lessons to grow from,

I’m not always the best person to someone.

I’m not using the fact that the timing isn’t right or you’re not meant for someone else as an excuse for my actions.

Because there have been times where I’ve realized I may have been toxic or hurtful to someone and it is on me to understand and accept when I’m doing that. 

But there have been other times when someone left and I racked my brain back and forth trying to find the reason. 

Trying to find what I did wrong… 

Trying to find my faults. 

And I found these conclusions. 

That maybe sometimes it isn’t me,

and sometimes it’s not even the other person. 

 

So

after all the doubting, the denial, the tears…

You have to understand that maybe it was your fault,

maybe it was their fault,

maybe it was just in the universe.

But you understand, that after so many trials and tribulations,

that these things happen simply because they happen.

Not everyone is good for someone else or it’s not always the right time.

Because ultimately, not everything will work out good in the end.

And it isn’t your fault, it’s not on you.

It’s just the way it is.

That’s just the way life is.

 

And who knows…

maybe the time will finally be right after a while and you’ll be brought back to the person. 

maybe the second time around will prove to be amazing… 

and maybe you guys will grow stronger. 

Who knows. 

But all I know is that spending so much time trying to figure out what happened, where you went wrong, what might be wrong with you, etc. is just going to make you feel worse. 

It’s not going to help you grow and move on, it’s going to freeze you in place, freeze you in your self-doubt. 

You have to learn that some things are out of your control. And you just need to let life be. 

And that’s the best thing you can do for yourself. 

That’s the best revenge you could give to someone who did you wrong. 

It isn’t getting back at them, 

it’s getting over them and learning from these experiences to grow into an even better version of yourself. 

I know it’s not easy a lot of the time. 

Trust me, it’s hard not thinking about everyone who didn’t stay. 

But it’s easier once you realize that not everything is on you, not everything is your fault and not everything is the other person’s fault. 

It’s just the way of life and you have to learn to live with the highs and lows this life has to offer. 

two | sides

have you ever met someone, gotten to know them, really liked the connection you had with them… and then everything fell apart…

and suddenly the person you knew at the beginning doesn’t resemble the person at the end?

have you ever felt that?

and suddenly it feels like that person was/is two different people.

“this isn’t who i knew. this isn’t who i want to know.”

and you wish and hope that it was two different people.

you yearn for that first person you once knew…

have you ever felt that?

have you ever wished you could separate this hurtful version of them from the caring version?

because there’s no way that they could’ve done this,

no way that this can be the same person.

do you ever hope that you could split them down the middle and keep the half that you like?

because that half was good,

that half was special,

that half made you happy.

do you ever wish you could do that?

like sugar and salt,

angel and devil,

yin and yang.

why can’t you have one without the other?

why can’t it be a cruel joke?

why did our judgment have to be against us?

sometimes i wish the you that you were before, was the you that you are now.

the you that you were before cared for me,

considered me,

made me happy.

that side of you was who i was happy to be around…

not this new version of you.

it sucks…

to say the least.

because i thought i knew you,

but did i ever even know you if this version of you was hiding behind a mask?

and if it was all fake,

if it was a facade,

then who are you really?

why did you pretend to be something you weren’t?

why did you concoct an imaginary personality?

i really wish it were true…

i wish you didn’t feel like you had to be something you weren’t in the first place,

or maybe it’s my fault,

i saw what i wanted to see

because i was hoping for something good and you came around and seemed perfect.

maybe i didn’t want to know imperfect,

maybe i couldn’t handle it.

or maybe our situation has made you this way. and maybe your priorities has changed.

maybe you found someone new to care about and got bored with me.

maybe since your work is done with me, since you know me so well, you can move on to the next victim.

i really wish it was real.

i wish you were real and i could keep that part of you,

the one that texted me first thing in the morning,

the one that was so excited to give me nicknames and share paragraph messages,

the one who wanted to hang out with me,

the one who wanted to know when i was sad,

the one who saw me when nobody else did,

i wish you didn’t take off that mask.

i wish i could’ve lived in this fantasy world for a little longer.

but i can’t.

this is who you are.

you lie to my face when i give you nothing but the honest truth,

you ignore me and only pay attention when i cry out for you,

you give me all these nice, out-of-reach expectations of who you are and then show me the real, cold side of you,

you break my heart and don’t care to fix it,

and when i tell you i want to fix this, fix us, that i want to get to know all of you, you leave for someone else and don’t care to mend our brokenness.

which is why i wish there were separate versions,

i wish i could split you in half,

i wish you had a twin and this isn’t you,

i wish. i wish. i wish.

but no matter how many times i wish for it, it never comes true.

what’s worse is you never really know when someone is wearing a mask,

until it’s too late.

until they’ve taken enough of you, made you cry and break,

until they ruin you just the right amount that you want to keep going back to them, because you wanna believe that façade will come back around.

you wanna believe all the pain will be worth it in order to get the sunshine.

you stay for the hope and leave with ashes.

and you wanna hold on, goodness, you wanna grip onto the rope so tight so they don’t let go.

until you realize…

this isn’t good for you and it’s time for you to say goodbye.

for your sake,

for your sanity,

for you.

it takes 2 to be in a relationship,

if they let go and you did all you could do, you should do the same.

because there’s no use running after someone who’s not running towards you.

sorry, she can’t let you in.

i told you not to let people in.

i warned you that this would happen.

now look at you.

you’re a mess because you let them in.

you knew that this would happen

and you convinced yourself that you would have been okay if this happened,

you continue to tell yourself these lies.

you continue to be dense.

you continue to let people in,

and get hurt in the end.

so whose fault is it really?

now all the good memories are tainted.

all the happiness is smeared with your tears.

all the lies are bubbling up under the surface.

how many times do i have to repeat this until you can hear me?

until you listen to me?

how many more heartbreaks,

how many more tears,

how much more… will it take?

they’re picking out pieces of your heart and you can only hold so much.

you can only try so much until it’s a one-sided relationship.

you can only care so much about someone until it breaks you.

you can only love so much until you’re lost.

you should’ve left with the first lie,

with the first doubt.

you should have just walked away.

instead of giving them the benefit of the doubt.

you should have treated them like they did you.

you should have listened to your gut,

should have listened to me.

maybe they gave you some happiness,

but they gave you more pain.

and now you can add them to the list.

of the ones that did you wrong.

and you can keep adding and adding….

keep crying and crying…

fresh tears or are they the same ones from before? just in a different setting.

and when each new person gets added, do you cry only about them? or about everyone from your past? and everyone who’s done you wrong?

are you keeping score?

keeping track of all the souls that have crushed your heart?

or have you become numb?

you can keep telling yourself this is a new lesson,

a new experience,

when you know every hit hurts you to the core.

how

much

more?

do you think this is only affecting you?

do you think it only hurts you?

it hurts me too.

to see you like this,

to watch you burn.

you don’t deserve this.

you’ve fought to get past this and somehow you always come back around.

because you never learn.

do you want this to happen again?

no?

so take my advice,

and listen to me the next time you try to let someone in.

don’t.

the voice in my head.