He’ll never know how strongly a girl had once loved him.
// I got a request about unrequited love, this is not yet it though, sorry, i just feel so lazy writing these days and this all I could come up for now. 😔
This is how I’d fallen out of love of him:
I didn’t. It just that one day I woke up, and I just.. I just didn’t feel anything for him. Not love, not like, not hate, nor anger, not even sadness or disappointment, just.. nothing. Like my heart entered a sudden oblivion, and it just forgot. It forgot to remember to care for him or to think of him, and in a blink of an eye, everything about him, every feelings I associated with him is erased, and he didn’t matter anymore. Like he never really mattered at all.
And I’m okay with it. I mean, it’s a lot like looking at a blank grey canvas, what do you suppose to feel about it? Nothing, right? Nothing and just okay.
//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #33
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
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
I guess my only self consolation for not being able to write is, I’m actually happy. It’s easy to bleed words when you are sad, but when you’re happy, it’s kind of hard to stop and pick up a pen and write things down, because you’re busy living life, being happy, being grateful. And it’s kind of a really really good feeling, and I guess happiness is a lot more difficult to capture in paper. I don’t even have words to express it.
[congrats to me! i’m signing off for awhile]
Wouldn’t it be nice if there’s at least one person who can read your mind or hear your thoughts? I hope there is, at least for me. So that whatever happens to me, someone would know. And I wouldn’t be lost in this oceans of people, even for that one person’s mind.
//something I’d thought about years ago.
I woke up from a dream I can’t remember, and it feels like I lose someone I can’t even remember who. And it just feel sad waking up, knowing I can’t go back, and there’s no way to go back.
// i think this is a result of me reading Never, Never book by Colleen Hoover and Tarryn Fisher. I have a hard time remembering dreams recently. 😭
Do you remember our first day together, our first touch, the first time you told me you love me, the first time you held my face in your hands and kiss me? Or how about that day you decided “I would like her to be with me for the rest of my life. I think she’s the one,” or that fateful day when you ask for my hand? Do you still remember any of it? Because I do. I still do. And those memories burned longer and brighter on my heart, those memories are engraved on me, memories that I know you also have. So why did you do this to me? Why did you cheat on me and leave me after all the moments we’ve shared? Why?
I thought this kind of problems only happen in movies, or in novels I read. It’s not supposed to happen in my life. I mean it’s you after all. The half of my life, the one I trusted the most, the one I loved the most. But it did happen. The first time I caught you cheating, I forgave you. It hurts so much, but I still keep on forgiving you. My trust with you are irreparably broken, and could you blame me? But I still choose to forgive you. I choose to forgive you because I love you. Why can’t you do the same for me?
// this is a custom piece request from someone. I hope I did justice to her story and feelings. Thank you so much for sharing and entrusting me your story.
// if you would like a custom piece for yourself or for your loved ones, just message me on any of my social media accounts or email me @ email@example.com for details.
Sing me a lullaby,
Of words too deep all I could do is feel,
Sing me songs from the ancient moon,
Of how it loves the sea and its tides,
And all the creatures underneath it.
Sing me the songs of the wolves,
Of their whisperings and howlings,
Of their pain and anguish,
And of how they love the moon so much,
All they could do is yearn,
And hate its moonlight glow.
Or better yet,
Sing me the songs of the winds,
Whispering beyond what you can hear,
And how they carry each wishes, unheard prayers, and unsung love notes,
To the hearts of the right ones
When the time is right.
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
I find myself lost in between juggling my life, my dreams, and my happiness. And I don’t know what to do. Is this all there is? The things I do that makes me happy are not exactly the things that this world would applaud for, and the things I do to make my life seems worth it are not exactly the the things that makes me happy. And my dreams, I think I have it all wrong. And I think, is this my dream before? Why do I feel stuck now, and why does doing this dream does not make me happy anymore. Is this all there is to it? At what point can I throw the white towels away and say I quit? At what point can I let go? At what point is it enough to let go? Should I even let go when I haven’t even begun? Is that even called letting go when my heart isn’t even into it anymore?
At what point can I stop chasing my dreams and not regret it one day?
Why is it whenever you walk out of the door,
my heart breaks into tiny little pieces,
my energy dipping way colder
than the antarctic ocean,
and I get this gnawing feeling,
at the pit of my stomach,
telling me that it is really me,
and my life,
that you’re walking out of.