Browse Tag by excerpt from a book i’ll never write
365, Prose, Writings

Always you

I dreamt of him last night and he asked me, “What’s your biggest mistake?”

I reached for his hands, but I woke up before I could answer him. And even though I knew he couldn’t hear me then, I still said it aloud, “You. Losing you. It will always be you.”

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #32

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365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

What hurts the most

It hurts, isn’t it? To receive from someone else the same love and attention you so much crave from him.

But that’s not what hurts the most.

To see him giving that same love and attention you want from him to someone else over and over again. To know that he’s fully capable to show you that love, but he just didn’t choose you, and he keep on not choosing you.

I think, that’s what hurts the most.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #31

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365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

Be still my treacherous heart

You asked me one time what do I need. And I almost said it to you right there and then. That what I need most is the power not to break, the power not to break under pressure, under love, under your heated gaze. The power not to break whenever you walk away from me, or whenever you’re near me, or whenever you hurt me with your words and with your stupid actions and inactions. The power to walk away from you and never look back. The power to never fall in your arms again every time you came back.

The power to still this treasonous, treacherous heart of mine.

To say I don’t love you anymore and mean it this time.

//excerpts from a book i’ll never write #30

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365, Prose, Writings

I can’t remember his face anymore

I can’t remember his face anymore, nor how his voice sounds. I used to wish for this, to forget, to not remember, and now that I finally can’t, I do not know what to make of it, or what to feel. I’m not happy nor sad. I just feel lost. A little bit confused. Like I’m grasping the last piece of memories I have with him but I just couldn’t bring it forth to my mind, and no matter how hard I think of him, or how long I take a look at a picture of him, when I close my eyes, I just… can’t. I can’t remember his face anymore.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #29

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365, Prose, Writings

Friends with benefits

“Why are you settling with him? He isn’t good for you. He’s just using you.”

I sighed. “Who says I’m settling? It isn’t because I’m still seeing him means I’m settling. You think I’m the one in love in this situation? You think that just because a girl is hooking up with a guy means she’s settling? Can it be the other way around? I definitely don’t want to hear any wedding bells with him, if that’s what you mean. He’s not the type. So relax. Stop your stigma. I’m just having my cake, and eating it too.”

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #27

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365, Prose, Writings

Photographs

I think you will never know how much I want to take a picture of you when you’re not looking, to capture you in those moments when you’re just being yourself, caught up in some daily task, or thoughts and daydreams that I would never even know, times when you’re unaware, and unabashedly imperfect. I wish I have taken those photos of you so that when this day comes, I’ll have those photos to remind me of you, and remember that once upon a time, I had fallen in love with a boy who never even knew how much I loved him.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #25

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365, Prose, Writings

Indifference

“I’m starting to hate him,” I said to my mom.

“Hate is good,” she said. “At least your starting to see him for what he is, and not what you think he is, at least your starting to know what you deserve, and not the little crumbs that he’s been giving you for far too long, at least when you look at him, you’re not looking at him with this rose colored spectacles anymore, instead, you’re seeing him eye to eye, wide-eyed, and in black and white panoramic view. Honey, this are the few times hate is good. But don’t stay too long hating him, because that means he’s still got a hold on you. Indifference. Indifference is better.”

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #24


A.N. okay, there’s no way my mom has said this. I’m the best ever liar in paper (not-so in person), so don’t ever (even for a single second) believe anything I’ve written in this blog, even if you think you know me. This goes for my past posts, really.  😁  I write sad, sad stories. Some are disturbing. Some I plucked straight out of my life and others are pure imagination. I weave truth and fiction into one, and you wouldn’t know which is which, so don’t wonder anymore. But for the curious and wondering minds, this post has 65% truth. 

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365, Prose, Writings

Untitled

Do you know that feeling where you just wanted to say “I don’t know what to do” over and over again? Because you literally don’t have an idea what to do anymore and you feel like you’re trapped in this black black void of mess you can’t seem to get out of no matter how fast you tried to run?

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do anymore. And you know what, if you’re ever feeling this, you’re not alone. I’m so deep and stuck in this moment too. I don’t know what to do.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #23

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365, Prose, Writings

Landmines

There are people I wish I didn’t lay myself bared, open, and vulnerable. People I wish I didn’t share my innermost thoughts, musings, and feelings. People I regret sharing myself. Friends and lovers alike. I feel like the few times I’ve finally trusted someone, are the times that I’ve trusted the wrong person. It’s like the universe telling me, “darling, when will you learn? This world is full of landmines and fucked up people disguised as your friends and lovers, and they will keep on hurting you if you will not learn how to shut up your damn heart.”

And what’s funny is I always thought you belong to those kind of people, but in the end, you’re the only one that stays, and you’re the only one that I didn’t regret sharing myself. Or maybe I’m wrong again. In any case, sweetheart, please don’t turn up like them.

// excerpt from a book i’ll never write #22

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365, Prose, Writings

Hush

Can I fall asleep with your lips touching mine and your limbs wrap up around me? I promise you to volunteer my own heart to shush your fears, and when you want to stop breathing, I will share you my breathe, the space I occupy, my soul, and even a part of my eternity, just to make you mine, just to make you feel loved.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #21

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365, Prose, Writings

Poetry

“I should turn you into a poetry,” he said. “But you deserve more than the half truths and half lies that most poetry consists of. You deserve to be more than my poem, more than my muse that I just think of every now and then. You deserve this, us, the reality of now, and not some fictionalized version of us.”

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #20

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365, Prose, Writings

If love is a drug

I usually compare him to a drug injected to my veins that keeps me up on high even on days I couldn’t get out of bed. But what I never say, what I’m afraid to admit, is that most of the times I fear that I’ll get used to this feeling, that I’ll get used to this high, and that one day I’ll wake up, desensitize, with all my lovestruck feelings for him gone.

// excerpt from a book i’ll never write #19

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365, Prose, Writings

You are mine

“Why do you never write about me?” I asked him one time while he was writing.

He looked at me and sighed, “You write about me.”

“Yes, I write about you.” I said back in a matter-of-factly tone.

He smiled sadly, shaking his head. “I never write about the things I already had. I write about the things I never had, or will never have. You know how we, writers, usually do that.” He looked at me, eyebrows raised, as if daring me to say something. “I never write about things I’ll make sure to keep, forever.”

He stood from where he was sitting, “And you, I will make sure to make you mine, and keep you mine, I will make sure not to lose you so I would never see the day that my heart needs to bleed the pain into words from not having you in my life.”

He cupped my face in his hands. “I will never write about you. You are mine.”

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #18

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365, Prose, Writings

Ignorance is bliss

I didn’t understand before the saying ‘ignorance is bliss’, but when you’ve kissed her and you’ve kissed me, and I’ve started wondering on things like,

Do you think of me
whenever you kiss her?
Or do you think of her
whenever you kiss me?

I finally understood.

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #17

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365, Prose, Writings

Count my scars gently for it still hurts

You once asked me where I got all my scars, and I said, “it’s from people who have the concept of love and pain all blurred together, who thought they have a right to my body just because they ‘love’ me, from people who thought that to love is to have, and to commit is to possess, and that the only way they knew I love them was if I said yes every time. It’s from people who doesn’t believe in gentle kisses and warm hugs, it’s from people who loved with hatred in their hearts, from people who thought that the only way to have me, and to claim me as their own, was if they left something tangible of their existence on me, so they painted my skin every time, with bruises, scratches, and cuts, and marked me with their burnt out cigarettes.”

I smiled to him. “You can count my scars love, but gently please, it still hurts. It never stops hurting.”

//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #16

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Sometimes I avoided to write topics like this because it’s just so so so painful, you have no idea how much it pains me to write this.  

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