Finding home

I went home last year empty. I’ve grown attached to the people and place. But just like most places I’ve been to, people move on eventually. Good memories stay. 

What we want

Maybe we are not meant for those who are fleeting and passing - when only a portion of ourselves they've come to know. 

In the end, we only want those who have seen our worst and torn selves to be part of our lives.

How fucked up am I?

How fucked up am I?

I’ve been, ever since pain got me and deliberately hit me continuously. I remember running away from it rather than facing it head-on. But escaping from it is useless because, in the end, it traps me. 

You asked

What is so interesting about your dark and confusing world, you asked?

Maybe, because I can resonate with it so much. And that despite your dark world you manage to thrive. I have this unconventional attraction to those who are in the emotional abyss. I feel like I can dive freely into that deep and complicated emotions - soak myself in it until I get enough. 

Not feeling

Maybe when we feel unloved for a long time, we can hardly feel real love at all. Instead, we dodge it, delay it, shove it aside - then we realize that we’ve lost it. We are used to grieving anyway, the normal case.

There are many times, maybe, that I’ve lost it. I can’t pinpoint exactly when but I knew I felt it. But am so used to not trusting my gut feeling and not going for it. Now, I find myself chasing after the wrong people. Mostly, a one-sided fascination. I question whether they will ever love me or not because I have given myself way too much. 

But they never do. And the cycle goes on.