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.