Another year, gone.

There are lessons to be learned with the passing of time, signs you will not see if you live in a bubble of materiality and false belief.

People change. Don’t punish them for it; you’re changing too, you just haven’t noticed it yet.

Tears will flow, undoubtedly. Curse them, those who made those tears fall, damn them to hell if you need to but deep down, thank them. Without heartless people, we’d be blind to the true beauty of the love around us.

There will be a time when your world will begin to fall apart in front of your eyes. Hysterical as this may render you, be grateful. Obviously you have mistakes that need to be corrected; this is a chance to get started and set things right.

If they tell you that you’re different, be afraid. Change is good, yes, but don’t lose sight of what you were because that is what makes you who you are and determines who you will become.

Have faith in the face of adversity, whatever form it may present itself in. Nothing ever came of falling in fear of a challenge but a lot did in enduring it with courage.

Never doubt yourself. You’ll find that the things you feared most are just stepping stones on the road to becoming the superhero you are destined to be.

Don’t hold grudges. A week or two in depression will do but the more people you misunderstand, the more people you cut out. It will get lonely. Reaching back to them would be easier than a life of solitude and hatred.

Yes, even if they’ve ruined your life.

People leave. If they don’t return, it means that they were never an essence of your existence to begin with. Look for the missing pieces in the puzzle, chances are the ones you’ll find will fit better than the ones that moved away.

Don’t trust everything you hear; Where there is an optimist, there will always be a pessimist. Define for yourself right and wrong, reality and fantasy, love and hate. When you let others determine these boundaries for you, then you will become your own worst enemy.

Faith, faith, faith. The only thing you’ll need to overcome anything that life throws in your way. You are far stronger than you think; holding on for that extra second will show you that. That extra ounce of strength will prove to those around you just how extraordinary you can be.

Without it, you might as well have never lived.

 With it, you need not fear darkness or the wrath of another; there will always be a light to guide you.

Believe in yourself and the rest will fall into place.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

- Neil Gaiman

So much for my happy ending.

There was a time when I was happy.

I could smile at the thought of love; almost envision the rush of someone’s fingers entwined with mine. I’d dream of possibility in a realm with no limits, where the only thing that can possibly stop you is when you find that your dreams have come true. It was that time when the words “happily ever after”, perfect and complete at the end of a movie or book, could make me smile. I’d be content, knowing that they were content; regardless of how unrealistic everything was; maybe in imagining that there was a sliver of hope that I’d find the same perfect ending too.

Now I want to rip their heads off.

I’m ashamed to say what happens to me now, in the face of their happiness. The monster on my back, not so much just shades of envious green anymore but morphing into a crimson shade of anger as well, now dwells inside me; clawing at my insides from within, clenching my heart in its fists and wringing it dry of any possible hope.

To say the very least, I cry.  

I don’t take pride in these tears. They repulse me and no sooner are they formed than they are wiped dry, into oblivion, by the back of my hand – a voluntary motion, as opposed to the tears themselves.

Maddening, the thought of it. They swell with the increasing intensity of the happiness of the characters and fall, coincidentally, at a kiss. Always, like an unbreakable cycle, dooming me to cringe in the presence of positive emotions for the rest of my life. Which drives me to think why; why does the thought of love, another person’s joy, anger me so? And then I realize that it’s all your fault. You made me this wreck, a heartless maniac who can’t stomach the thought of other people being happy and why? Just because she doesn’t have anything to be happy about.

Again, your fault.

“Pulling her close, he whispered the words that she’d waited so long to hear. Three words, a perfect flowing symphony that sent static along her veins, warming her body from the inside out at the sound of his voice. What happened next, she can’t explain to this day. All she remembered was that as they connected, as he breathed life back into her long-dead soul, the whole world stopped spinning and in that frozen moment in time, everything was perfect. She was happy again.”

I’d have liked that ending. I still might – I’m not sure if what you did made me dislike them or stop believing in them, there’s a big difference. But for now, I can’t stand it.

You created a monster.

How stupid could I be.

The problem begins when we decide that this one is going to be different from the others.

The reality is that they are all the same.

They came to you with open arms, seemingly wanting to be close to you for all of eternity. On the surface, it looks like they could love you with every fiber of their being, because you certainly feel the same about them. But of course, it’s beneath the surface that the soul resides.

A soul, stained.

The first ones made mistakes. They said the wrong things that broke hearts and did the wrong things, triggering tears.

Give them a chance, you thought.

And so you did. Temporarily plastering that fragmented heart, you went back to war. No armour, at that, because you thought that you’d be prepared for it the second time around; also because you believed in second chances.

What a joke. One was as bad as the other – twice the pain, twice the tears.

It hurts more because, at the back of your mind, you knew this would happen.

And you let it.

So this is Christmas.

Speak

The quiet scares me because it screams the truth.

The truth that you don’t remember me anymore.

Your calls don’t flash on my phone, no messages from you to light up the screen.

Maybe I was just a temporary confidante – you got your job done and now, I sit like a piece of discarded trash on the roadside.

And to think I trusted you, with everything. You trusted me too, didn’t you? That night, when we watched the passing time heal your burning wounds – would you have let anyone else in on that dark secret?

Maybe you could have, I don’t know, but you didn’t – it was just me.

Where does that leave me now? Your counsel, no longer required, trashed.

You could say hello, you know – it wouldn’t kill you.

 The silence is killing me.

For Sam.

I'm sorry that I can't tell you how I feel.
I'm sorry that these words that you read are the only way I can talk to anyone about anything. 
I know you're there and I know you won't judge me but this is the only way. 


Remember the old days? When we were young and life hadn't tripped us over yet.
Times when we thought everything we knew would last forever, that everything would be as perfect as it was at that moment. 
Now the only memories we have of that time are buried six feet under, a treasure trove at the bottom of your garden.
There will come a time when we are ready to look back on those days and those pieces of history will seem, well, historical. 


For we have made memories beyond the ones we froze in time. 
We have outlasted the cataclysmic storms that found their way into our paths.
We haven't forgotten each other. 


Thank you, Sam, for the inspiration; here's to you, a celebration.

Confusion is nothing new.

Seeing his name flashing on the caller identity made her heart flip over. Hearing his voice, deep and endearing, say ‘hello’ gave her inevitable tingles and put a happy smile on her face. Five minutes into a conversation and she was hooked, to say the least. They’ discuss everything, territory that others dared to venture.  For hours they’d talk, losing track of time in the other’s company. It was all perfect.

Or so she thought.

He’d mentioned them, quite a few times, but she’d come to realize that he’d moved on from his old self and was now looking for a change. Someone new. Someone like her?

I’m in love with someone.

Oh. Who?

You’re going to think I’m a real idiot…

Tell me.

I know she’ll never say yes to me or feel the same way…

Just tell me.

The name that followed was not hers.

And it broke her heart.

To think of the hours they’d passed, the secrets they’d shared and the tears she’d cried over things she could tell only him. He’d talked of love and left devastation in it’s wake.

I need you to help me.

What’s wrong now?

I need to get this off my chest. I don’t care what she says. Tell me what to do.

With a heavy heart,

You have to tell her.

I don’t know what to say. Will you help me?

Almost in tears,

Of course.

Thank you. I knew I could count on you.

She didn’t know exactly he told her or how she had responded but frankly, she didn’t care anymore. Or did she?

He had painted a picture of his perfect girl for her, a long time ago when she did care, and in an instant she’d known who fit the description.

Down-to-earth, cute, funny, someone he could have a conversation with, someone who didn’t have a huge ego, someone who loves food, loves little kids and wasn’t afraid of adventure.

He’d been talking about her.

It broke her to think that, even though she didn’t want to admit it, she still did care. As long as she’d live, she’d think back to those few hours and wonder where she’d gone wrong. She’d wonder why he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. Blinded, blinded by love and feelings gone amiss for someone else who they both knew would never feel the same way about him.

By day, she’d dream of what could have been. By night, she’d pray for the tears that ran down her face and for the knives that stabbed at her heart – she just wanted it to stop.

But she didn’t want to stop feeling that way about him.

She couldn’t, even if she wanted to.

Closing Time

December brought...mixed emotions. 
Overwhelming happiness.
Crippling despair.


Why? We all have to leave at sometime.
But why does it have to be now?


We all know that at inevitably, all good things come to an end. That doesn't prepare us for the heartache and the numbing void the separation leaves behind. Moving forward is difficult enough without having to be pulled back by what we are forced to leave behind. 

Hope is contagious. Really?

'Letters to God' is just something else. At first, writing to someone who's address and whereabouts are technically impossible to reach - at least in this lifetime - seems like a waste. A waste of ink, paper and possible hours of thought that went into it. But in the end, it's just personal solace that we're seeking. The assumption that He will read our letters and 'reply'. It's just to give us the assurance that someone cares. 

There's something else. The postman. He was just a lost soul looking for redemption yet his answers to the letters are what started the revolution. So, we may be writing to a Higher Power only to find that it is right in our midst, in the people we least expect to find it. It lives among us, in us.

This is a suddenly spiritual feeling, I know, but it really struck me.

I might just try writing a letter to Him. 

Wordplay.

People make mistakes in what they do but the mistakes that hurt the most are the ones that are said. 
Say what you need to say, by all means. Just, think a minute before you do to make sure you actually mean what you say. 
An ambush of lies. Half-truths? 
The worst thing is, it actually sounds like the truth. 
And the truth, though actually a lie, falls tenderly on an unsuspecting ear. 
When the lie is revealed, it is too late.


Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we begin to deceive. 


One can tell the 'truth' was a lie only from it's sting.
You can't take back what you've said, you can't change what the other person felt when you said it. The damage has already been done. 
Next time, make up your mind before you open your mouth. 

Under the Weather.

It's raining. 

Rain is good. 

Not when you're in a tuk, drenched and suffering in rush hour traffic.  

At home, by the window. Mid-day breeze on your face and a good book - Life is good.

Oh, and some Ribena too. 

All We Are

I kept falling over, I kept looking backward, I went broke believing that the simple should be hard.
I wasted, wasted love for you.
In the end the words won't matter because in the end, nothing stays the same and in the end dreams just scatter and fall like rain.


Love is worthless. Temporary bandaging and numbing of pain, maybe, but it leaves you broken when it decides to leave. And this is love, after all, and it works to it's own time so who knows when that'll be? 
Is it worth your tears? Just thinking about what could have been makes you cry. Cry at the happiest movie, cry when your heart should be rejoicing. 
Is it all it's cracked up to be? I personally don't think so.
It's all perfect on the surface. 
But below that, nothing is safe. 


I wanted it, a long time ago
And I thought I did not long ago too.


But I saw too much.
And it scared me.
So, for now, I'm staying clear.


The song is perfect, so real - we trade our heart and soul for moments that pass like *snap*
In the end, everything changes and it was all just a waste.
I only disagree with one thing Matt Nathanson has to say : 
And every day is a start of something beautiful, something real.
That, or it's just a beginning to a new chapter of heartbreak.

Stories

It's like a book, they say - just read your story aloud.
I'm sorry, but that's just not going to happen.

Before the words come memories and with the words come emotions and not necessarily happy ones.
More often than not, words and incidents you want to forget.
Deja vu of this kind isn't good for you. It takes you back and stuffs you in that context again - everything you did to get over it, be strong and pull through, all falls away. And you're back to square one - same anger, same tears, same broken heart.

Not again.

Return.

This is nice. The longer I go without pouring out what I want to say, the more things I have to leave out because there's simply too much anger in the words that come rushing from my...fingertips, in this case.
Nevertheless, when you're silenced in every other manner, what better to do that to type your sorrows away?

Why do we bother recording history? It just repeats itself anyway.

Safety First

I heard that someone had heard from someone else that the only people who will survive in this world, those who will be favoured by natural selection and the evolution process, are those who are cautious.
The revenge of the ultra-paranoid population. 
It's not impossible.
From experience over the years, I've realized that I'm one of those people. If something goes terribly wrong while doing Task A, I will stop doing Task A altogether and never do it again. I'll sit thinking for hours of the million other things that could have gone wrong, so much that I'm too freaked out to ever think of doing Task A again. 
I can't quite decide if this paranoia is just over-caution or some sort of psychological disturbance. Either way, if thinking about the possible negativities can save your life, then I'm paranoid.
To the rest of you, be careful.

Optipessimism.

Sam.F :  BE POSITIVE.

3:14am

One Invictus : I cannot.

3:14amSam.F : Why?

3:14am

One Invictus : I believe it was you who told me - ages ago - that it's better to be negative than be positive and have your hopes dashed...and it makes sense.

3:15am

Sam.F : Yes yes I did. But sometimes we mess things up constantly looking for the negativity, did you think that maybe sometimes it's what you bring upon yourself?

3:16am

One Invictus : Well, if we just let the positivity overwhelm us, we will be hit by reality and it'll be worse

3:16am

Sam. F :Don;t let it overwhelm you! Just let it flow through you! You need to let a litle bit of positivity seep in.

3:19am

One Invictus : Not happening

3:19am

Sam.F : Please? For me?

3:19am

One Invictus : Negativity is the soul's natural defense against heartbreak, it's automatic.

3:20amSam

Sam. F : But there is more to life than heartbreak.

3:21am

One Invictus : Like what? Everything is likely to end up in heartbreak.

To You.

You might not ever see this, but your story almost made me cry.
I'm sorry.

We could be friends, you know.

We find friends in the rarest of places. Sometimes, more than the ones we've been looking for, it's those we accidentally chance upon that really leave a mark on our lives.

The ones who you can laugh for endless hours with, the ones around whom you experience life's happiest moments, the one's who convince you to take risks with no regrets. 

Riding at breakneck speed. 

Walking against the blustering sea breeze.

Laughing till you forgot why you started laughing in the first place.  

I live for these moments. 

And the people I share these moments with really make them worth living for.

Ssssh.

You have your secrets, I have mine.
Tell yours to those around you, let me keep mine to myself. They're safe inside.
My secrets are about your secrets.
Your little whispers, hidden smiles and agitated glances are what my thoughts feed on, what nourishes them into a vengeful creature - vicious, yet dormant. The more you struggle to keep hidden from me, the stronger the beast grows.
But it will never release it's fury. The bigger it gets, the deeper it begins to drive into me, the angrier it gets as it eats away at my inside.It grows not to wreak havoc on your life but to destroy mine.

You can keep your secrets. The ones I have are enough for me. Too much, actually.
They say talking helps. Well, you talk to them, they listen and then talk about you again. More secrets.
The last thing I need.

Change is good, really?

When you see someone, someone you love and care about, become something that you know in your heart isn't right, what do you do?
Do you let change take it's toll in a belief that transformation is good for people every once in a while or do you stop that wheel from turning? Maybe it isn't your place, maybe what they're doing isn't entirely sinful but that doesn't mean you condone something that is bound to bring about the destruction of their very existence.

As much as criminal action is punished by law, so is innocent silence.
If you can stop it, don't hold back.
But, you have so much to lose from those few words.
In the end, it all comes down to this :
Are they changing or are you just standing still?

Open Wounds.

You get those days where you want to just die.
More specifically, kill yourself.
Today's one of those days.

It's terrifying to think that the very people who were supposed to keep you from getting hurt are the ones who cause the worst wounds - in terms of size and pain. And even though it may not seem possible, things actually get more terrifying when you realize that, because it's your very protectors who caused the wounds, they're not there to help you in the healing process.
Now we all know that if someone, particularly an emotionally broken and distressed individual, if left to their own devices can result in two possible conclusions. One, they actually manage to somehow mend their broken hearts or two, they just worsen the wounds, unable to take the pain.

I know which path I'm about to take - don't follow me.

Disconnected

Ever felt like you were slipping away? No, being pushed away?
As if the golden threads that bound you to people in your life were now fraying, tearing under pressure?
The closer you walk, the further everyone else runs away from you.
The voices get softer, the stares get colder and before you know it, you're alone.

Alone.

Every little lightbulb, dead.
Every circuit, fused.
Every connection, severed.
Every face, a mirage.
Every memory, a ghost.

Nothing's real anymore.

People Always Leave

It may seem to most as a fan worship of a faithful One Tree Hill follower but in actuality, the drawing is a testament to a core characteristic in every human being, soap-opera-character or not : fear.

Why do people leave? Because they need to run.
Why do they run? Because they have to hide from something.
Why do they hide? They're afraid.

Their fear is, on another plane, selfishness.
To run from something, you leave something behind - someone, something, a place, an emotion.
What you see as escape, someone else sees as betrayal.
What you see as a new beginning, they see as a bitter end.

Broken hearts, broken friendships, broken promises lie in the wake of a getaway.
Next time, think a minute before you take off.

Back in business.

It's been almost a month since the last post. I seriously missed not writing. This is what exam season does to you and exactly why they should be abolished - drives you a little insane, crazy, off the edge. The torture's coming to a close in less than a week. Let the juices flow. 

They don't care.

Have you ever thought that whatever you're waiting for is not worth it? All the long spent and hopes discarded in the belief that IT will come one day and surpass everything - is the sacrifice worth the outcome? Do the ends justify the means?

We wait for understanding - it never comes.
We wait for love - it breaks our hearts.
We wait for people - and they don't know what we are to them.

Unwritten

I wrote a story today. When I had finished, everything was perfect.

Then I glanced over the page and felt something was wrong.

The characters weren’t people. They were, physically, but inside of them raged wicked monsters of hatred and jealousy, their veins bursting with evil blood. They had to go – so I erased them.

The scenery wasn’t pleasing to the eye – in reality, it was marred by small runs in the canvas, a sad tear here, a screaming voice there. There was nothing of beauty. I changed it. Actually, I decided the story would be better without the scenery so I trashed it altogether.

There were scars. Dark, painful reminders of the hurt and trauma in the past.

Fix them, I thought. So with a needle and thread, I sewed up the wounds. But when I looked at them, no matter how much sewing, the scars showed. I tried so hard to put it behind, hide it – yet it managed to show its ugly self. Out came the eraser.

Some of the events that occurred seemed surreal to me. I didn’t understand how or why they happened, or why people acted the way they did. One thing was certain – they didn’t belong.

And they went too.

The lead character scared me. She was a compassionate friend and caring person. Those were her flaws. People used them to their advantage – walked all over her, left her dying in the debris.

From that point on, I got rid of everything that scared, hurt or upset me.

When I looked over what remained, there was nothing but a blank page.

I erased everything that I didn’t want there, everything that I wished had never happened – I’d erased the whole story.

I looked again, and I couldn’t find myself anymore. I wasn’t there. There was no one looking at the blank page, no one sitting at the writer’s desk.

I’d erased myself in the process.

Anger Management

Anger is a multi-faceted emotion.

So temperamental that people can’t even make up their minds on how to handle it.

An optimist would tell you to let it all out – they believe that anger can be settled and dissipated with mere talk and mediation. Sharing your feelings with someone is healthy for you, helps you get a load of your chest and keeps you from going crazy.

I’m an optimist at times.

To others, never to myself.

A pessimist – such as I am to myself – would tell you to keep shut. Lock everything up inside of you, letting it out would only hurt others. They don’t believe it can ever be solved so they just expect your anger to suffocate and die inside you. A bird slammed in a cardboard box with no holes. It’ll hammer against the edges, pleading and protesting to be set free. Finally, when it is clear that all hope is lost, it surrenders to asphyxiation and dies a quiet death.

But that’s the bird – the bird is not anger.

Anger will never submit to a passive death.

It will hammer at the box…and keep on hammering. If and when it does go silent, it is not dead. It is waiting. Lurking, prowling in the darkest depths of the soul. Feeding on pain and darkness till it has grown strong, energized on the rivers of misery and hurt that sustain it. Rabid and ravenous.

Revengeful.

What you try to suppress will not be silenced for long and one day, it will show itself.

And that’s when you find yourself going mad.

As the Cheshire Cat so aptly put it “We all go a little mad sometimes”

All it takes is a little anger to send you around the bend.

Invincible

We are only as strong as our weakest moments.

Maybe it’s not just one moment, but a barren wasteland after the explosion of consecutive landmines.

Maybe it’s a lifetime of anger ringing in your ears.

Maybe it’s the pieces of your heart that your tears fall on as you hold them in your palm.

Is your life something you can just throw away when things get too much to bear?

Is pain really worth dying for?

Some may say – Is it really worth living for?

You’re still here, aren’t you? That in itself is a testament.

Because those experiences are the essence of what you are made up of – something unbreakable.

There are times when life is passing by and you’re trapped – by others, by yourself.

Times when all the suppressed anger in you just wants to lash out and slap someone, Lord knows I’ve wanted to do that more times than I can count.

At times like that, we each have our own remedies that help us climb out of what we got lost in – ourselves.

Chocolate: sinful, scandalous, soothing comfort food.

A long, deep kiss from that one, special person.

Or maybe just a smiling emoticon from a friend across cyberspace.

Point being, you are never helpless. Giving up and dying shouldn’t even cross your mind.

Inside you is the power, when unleashed, that will rewrite destiny itself.

You hold in your hands the ultimate energy that can strangle the hands of Fate herself.

You are invincible.

Of Love and Lenses

She was the kind of girl who’d do anything for a photograph, and do anything to stay out of one.

He believed in the beauty within everything.

She stood on the edge, the sun beaming down on her, her hair blown askew by the breeze, face half hidden behind an SLR.

He watched from a close distance – she would be the piece de résistance to his collection.

She’d always been the one to turn away, shun the camera when it came for her.

He found her entrancing.

There was something about the connection they shared – the one she refused to acknowledge. It was something he couldn’t explain. Yet like the motion of a fast shutter, she’d move in the corner of his visual field and he’d be frozen. Something about her made his world stand still.

Sneaking up on people for that natural look had taught her enough and her reflexes were so on edge that he’d never been able to even get a blurred motion trail of her on camera. She was a shadow – here one second, gone the next -  always there, a haunting.

She spoke not a word but her beauty spoke to him. The light in her eyes with the rays of the morning sun, the small smile that played on her lips when she viewed life in playback mode, the essence of peace and magic she seemed to radiate at those fleeting moments when their gazes happened to converge.

There was something about the way he looked at her that gave her tingles. Maybe it was that gentle, reassuring smile he always seem to have on his face when he saw her. Maybe it was the fact that unlike anyone else she’d ever met before, he actually seemed to care.

She turned, he looked, he smiled – she smiled back.

It was almost as if she was calling to him. He couldn’t see her anymore from where he stood and so he moved closer. There she was, standing on the edge like she always did, smiling to herself. The smile that stopped time. When it felt as if though the world around them was standing still, he lifted his camera and clicked. He looked down at the LCD and then at her, her small smile that was almost invisible, but present, nevertheless, as always. It was what he always imagined – nowhere as captivating as she really was, but close enough.

There it was – beauty.

Watch your back.

The world is full of evil. One wrong turn, one blind eye and that could be the end of life as you know it. Tread with care. And watch your back.

1 Corinthians 13 : Revised

“Love is patient; love is kind
and envies no one.
Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude;
never selfish, not quick to take offense.
There is nothing love cannot face;
there is no limit to its faith,
its hope, and endurance.
In a word, there are three things
that last forever: faith, hope, and love;
but the greatest of them all is love.”

Love is patient if you are not taking up too much of its time, love is kind when it has a reason to be.

Love will envy another if it is not satisfied with what it already has.

Love will boast out of pride – and also out of arrogance. Love will be rude if something gets in the way of its happiness.

Love will be selfish in seizing the best of everything for itself, will not only take offense but give it back.

Love will surrender if the pain is too much for it to bear.

Love’s faith is easily shaken and will not withstand the elements.

Love will give up hope and cease to exist, much less endure, if times are too trying and the winds of fate are too strong.

In a word, there are three things that are meant to last forever: faith, hope, and love;
Faith so easily shaken, hope so easily shattered,

And love, so easily lost.

HOW

The question is not who we choose love but how we choose to love them. 

We can love anyone, it's one of the few things on this earth where the choice is freely ours. But how we go about it is another story all together. 

People claim to love someone with all their hearts. God, you can love someone with all your soul and the very essence of your being.  Your love for them could consume you to the extent that you are no longer living to love them but loving them to stay alive.

But are you loving them right? 

Are you giving them the love they deserve?

Most importantly, do they deserve your love?

You may think that someone is the one for you. All the signs may seemingly point in that direction. Everyone might tell you that it's going to last forever...until you get hurt. Then you realize that they were never worth all the trouble, they were just a waste of your time. 

I am in no position to dispense such 'advice' and these are mere ramblings. I have zero experience in the field yet most pieces are compiled on empirical evidence - none that is mine, of course. 

Exteral Scarring, Internal Trauma.

Ramble.

People say one thing, mean something else and do something entirely different.
Who do you believe?
Or do you believe? Better then to just not believe anyone.
What you don't know won't kill you. 
For a while, at least.

Off.

Loyal as a dog, the saying goes. Or something to that effect.

Well, Sam.F was right. You take the time to listen and then it's that same dogged loyalty that turns around and breaks you down. And the worst part of it is, your loyalty blinds you to everything that is really going on. It blinds you to the extent that you keep making the same mistake - over and over again.

Life's a bitch.

The Sunset on Sunday

Do I want to be in love?

Heartbreak scares me. Stories of relationships, once perfect and predicted to last a lifetime, shattered now into a million shards. Tears of an aching heart on your shoulder as they pour out to you what’s left of their broken soul.

Things like this make me want to be alone for  the rest of my life. Too many commitments, too many problems.  Love causes problems therefore love must be avoided. People cannot be trusted so don’t let people in.

But then, love is beautiful. I then realize that no amount of negativity towards the emotion will deny that everyone wants to be loved.

Walking in a crowded place, surrounded by twos. Hands held, fingers clasped, heads bent, soft laughter – I love you.

Who doesn’t dream of that? Every girl wants her fairytale to end with a ‘happily ever after’.

I know I do. 

Heartbreak Warfare

The magic that is John Mayer.

Once you want it to begin,
No one really ever wins
In heartbreak warfare

If you want more love,
why don't you say so?


If you look at it that way, we've all been to war.
Every heartache, a bomb. 
Every tear, a bullet hole.
Every scream, a hand grenade.

How many times have we, perhaps literally, cut ourselves open and laid exposed to the oncoming enemy?
The enemy who, once upon a time, used to be our best friend. 
How many times have we allowed them to hurt us and then disappear into the distance while we are left to nurse our streaming wounds?
How many times have we lost, or lost ourselves, trying to get back to who we were before it all started?
We are all warriors.