Angel of Music.

I met you when I never thought that I could feel for another man anymore; not in any way that I felt for him. And you helped me get over him. For that opportunity I will be eternally grateful. Both to you and to He who gave me you.

I prayed for an angel, to help me and to hold me and to show me the kindness and tenderness that my soul so greatly craved and needed. Who would help me through the mending of my heart and give me comfort. And maybe he sent me you. 

You certainly were an angel. You did all that and more. And my prayers felt like they were answered. You held me. And you gave me comfort. You helped me to get over him and all within three weeks of knowing you. And I thank God for sending me you. 

But why then did you have to be another broken heart waiting to happen? I accepted the fact that there was a possibility I would fall for someone else and that would help me get over him. And as long as I can get over him, if I got my heart broken again, maybe it would be a worth it price. I accepted that and I still hold onto that.

But why, why is it not possible to give me a balm that would not open new wounds? Do I need to bleed from somewhere new to close an old wound? Is that what it is going to be? Because I feel like I am falling for you and I am deathly afraid of that. I am afraid of getting hurt again, for fear that I will not recover again. For fear that you are really my last chance and with every heartbreak, my heart will grow more poisoned that it will no longer be able to accept love and happiness without destroying it all. 

I know you are wounded yourself. And you have your issues and your baggage. Your doubts and your acceptance that love will never happen for you. And I am afraid that that very acceptance is what has shut the door against me to enter. Because hopeless as it seems, to my chagrin I still believe and it frustrates me that you do not anymore. Perhaps you still do, some small but of you but I do not believe that I can be the one to revive that. I do not believe that I can be special enough and good enough to convince you to give me a try. 

And there are so many things I want to say to you but I hold myself back because I am afraid that they will fall on dead ears. Because I am afraid you won't care enough to know anyway like no one else has ever cared enough to know. 

All the compliments you've ever given me were about the physical aspects of our interaction. And you said a lot of bad things of my personality. It makes me fear that you will soon tire of me l, which now seems like such an inevitable eventuality as I cannot imagine what else I can give you when you seem to dissatisfied of my personality and so aware of all my character flaws. I will not be good enough to make you consider maybe taking a chance with me, and not moving to another part of the country. 

I know you've had your fair share of crazies in your life. But I cannot help but feel that all those crazies had their glamour, that special attraction about them that kept you with them; that kept you interested enough to stick around despite the drama and the hell that the relationship had descended into. And I don't have that. Why would you even consider me then? I'm a basket case myself. And not only that, I also lack the spark that they had. 

I don't believe that you will never find someone. What you lack is far less unattractive than what I lack. I believe you have met your match. Part of me is indignant. You should be fucking grateful that you actually met someone who actually believes what you tell me and yet is able to accept that and still like you and think of you fondly. But that doesn't make it so. 

Every time you mention my character flaws, it hurts me. It hurts me because I know they're true. And it hurts me because I wish I wasn't that way but I can't change. I don't know. It hurts me because it makes me feel like I'm not good enough for you and they just feel like confirmation that you will eventually tire of me and discard me like an old toy. I don't want to be a toy or a phase of your life. I want to mean something to someone. I want to be the one. 

You told my friend that you wish I was happy and cheerful like her. And that hurt me a lot. I am sorry that I am a cheerless, gloomy sap. That I can somehow suck all the energy out of the room with my insecurities and my fear. I am sorry that I seem to have lost my zest for life and all the things that made me interesting and unique. It reminds me that I used to have that; to have all that in spades. But I lost them all along the way. And I can't seem to get them back. And I am sorry that now I am a broken, empty shell of a person who is not good enough for you to consider more than just a phase in your temporary stint in England. 

You don't think I fit into your idea of what a wholesome human character should look like. With all the pieces complementing each other and making sense next to each other. Well I'm sorry I'm not like that and that I don't conform to your belief of what a person with a strong sense of identity is like. This is who I am; this is my identity. I am a mass of inconsistencies and I don't make sense a lot. I wish I could make you see that and believe it and not turn away from me. Not that you thinking I have no identity is a good thing either. 

I don't personalise my stuff? Well I do. It's just not in a way that anyone can see. And even if I did, perhaps no one would take one look and know it's me because maybe nobody knows me that well. 

I am insulted when you think my coloured hair does not fit my personality because you think I try so hard to blend in. I try to blend in in my interactions with people but that in no way reflects on my dressing. And I wish that you would accept that if I were to explain it to you. But no you won't. Because you think you know the world and people inside out. But maybe that's why I don't fit in with most people. I'm not like them perhaps. 

And if hurt me when I told you I missed you but you told me I shouldn't. I've spent so much of my life having my affections considered a burden. I'm sick of having people feeling inconvenienced instead of honoured that I am bestowing my affections upon them. You're afraid that I will become dependant on you. Why? Because you're planning to leave and break my heart? Because you know I'm just a phase in your life when you are so much more to me? A part of me feels that you should be fucking honoured that I am even giving you the time of day. But you're not. And you saying that awoke that fear in me that to you, my affections are also a burden. I suspect that they are. You don't want to be held back in your pursuit of excitement in life. And who am I to even make you want to slow down. I'm not special enough; especially not to you to make you feel that staying would be worth your while. In the end, no matter how much you deny it I am just a phase to you. And I don't mean enough to you. 

When you held me I felt safer and more loved than I've ever felt for most of my life. I've never been hugged like that before and it felt so good. It felt so safe. And I wanted to melt into your arms and never come out of that warm feeling of being embraced with such sincerity. I wanted to stay there forever and keep feeling as loved and as safe as I did. You hold me like you really mean it and no one has ever done that before. 

But knowing how it is with me, you don't actually mean it. Not in the way that hugs like that are supposed to mean. I've never been able to understand how you can hold someone like that; someone you barely know and definitely don't care for enough beyond the satisfaction of current needs. How you can embrace someone with an embrace that says so many things but not actually be saying those things to begin with. Perhaps you are genuinely talented when it comes to hugs and you can hug anyone like that regardless of what they mean to you, even if nothing at all. And that would mean that it could be anyone but me in your arms and it wouldn't make any difference. And that makes your embrace a bit more cold to me. I understand compassion and empathy. But it makes me feel like I mean more to you than I really do. And I am tired of having to keep telling myself not to let myself fall because it's all a sham. I wish for once, I was genuinely as loved. 

You looked at me with such adoration it made my heart melt into a puddle of goo at my feet. But how can you look at me like that when I mean nothing to you? When you don't care enough to take a chance on me. I am tired of being lied to. By my head, by my heart, by everything around me. By my unsatisfied potential. By myself. Why do you keep lying to me? All of you. Why do you keep lying to me and taunting me and teasing me into hoping before letting me crash like a pile of bricks onto the ground. 

It's not that I don't love myself. I do love myself. But I acknowledge that perhaps the world does not see the same value in me that I see in myself. It's not the same thing. 

I could very well fall for you and let my heart be crushed again. That seems to be all it's good for really. I can imagine spending my life with you and being happy. I can imagine a lot of things about me being happy with you but you know, I need to stop lying to myself. I need to stop telling myself fairy tales because at the end of the day, I'm not that special one that you can feel like you want to keep and adore for the rest of your life. How can I be? When all evidence seem to point to the contrary. 

Finally!

Well, I am finally over him. He who held the shackles to my emotional freedom for so long. For what felt like forever. And I suppose in that stage of my journey so far, it almost was forever. I almost cannot believe it. To think of someone I used to love so much and who caused me so much pain and endless nights of tears, and not feel a damn thing except sadness at how the whole thing turned out. He did treat me so fucking badly. I was just a thing to him when I loved him so dearly. And I cannot believe now just how badly I allowed him to treat me. 

I lost sight of who I am. And I have not found that yet. Or maybe I didn't just lose sight of it. I changed. And I don't know what I'm supposed to be now yet. Along the way I got so used to the idea that I could not find love maybe that I somehow accepted that that was the best that I could get even though I was nothing to him. I'm not past that yet. I do not suddenly miraculously believe that anything better is in store for me, that the love I feel that I deserve is there for me for the taking. And maybe that was one of the few things that I can get. But nevertheless, now I just cannot believe I let him treat me so badly. 

I cannot help but feel that I cheated a bit. Because I met someone who made me get over him. Someone who treated me well and showed me that I could receive such tenderness from another even though it came with a shitload of qualifiers and exclusion clauses. Albeit that, I am incredibly grateful that I was given that. That I was given someone who helped me to get over him in so much less time than I otherwise would've needed. Even though now I'm probably going to have to get over this new guy, but I am at least grateful that I got over that guy. 

I don't know why love is so important to me. It is almost an obsession. The need to find that love and that companionship. That over the years it's almost evolved into a fairy tale that is unattainable but somehow some part of me still believes. It is ridiculous. But love is important to me. And now I have been so bruised by it that even though it holds such importance to me, a part of me finds it hard to believe that I can ever get it. And it regards every opportunity with such suspicion that I can very easily wreck anything that comes my way. Such is life. Maybe I am going to be the one standing in the way of my own happiness now but it was all borne out of the hurts of previous years. So what am I to do with that? 

No one is going to stick around long enough to show me that I am wrong. That I can and should believe in love again. And in myself again. Can I even? I don't want to wreck any chances that come my way. But how do I stop myself from doing that? They say it is possible to do it on your own but I cannot help but feel that I need guidance on that matter. I need a helping hand and who is going to be patient enough and care enough to stick around and help me through with that. But one thing is for sure. I am so glad I am over him. And that is something I can truly and sincerely thank God for. Thank you. 

Healing

I came here a year and a half ago. They journey, it made no difference to me. I had little interest and there was no excitement. To me it was just a step that I needed to make on a path that was already set. I was heartbroken. Resigned. Thinking back, I forgot what I was feeling then; probably a good thing. But I suspect I was feeling rather dead inside. And that why I didn't care either way. I'd lost all hope and all life in me. Then I came here and things started changing. And with it I would assume maybe I did too. Life started here and before long I was on another path, feeling other things I never expected to when I started out on that journey. And now things have come full circle. There was a lot of crap in my experience here. A lot of sadness and heartbreak and disappointment. And those feelings were so bright and they basically burned away all the feelings of the past. The resignation, the deadness, the lack of life. Because now though it is incredibly painful, I gotta say, there is definitely not a lack of life and passion now. The pain burns bright and vivid and it's life where previously it felt more like death. And I suppose I need to be thankful for that. At the very least it breathed life in me and there is now life in me. But there were also issues not addressed that day. I know I got over him. And I healed. But that was just a cover. Now things have come to a head and I believe that maybe it's because back then I may have healed, but I may not have done it correctly. I was in shambles and it got better but I didn't get out of it in one piece. Maybe that's why I'm here now. To set right old wrongs. To reset whatever went wrong the first time round. Not so easy considering those mistakes have had time to set. And obviously breaking an old injury to reset it so it would heal right would hurt very God damned much. I don't know what to do. How to reset those old wounds and heal right this time. I don't know how to go about it and most days I feel like I'm surrounded by confusion and I don't know what I'm doing if I'm doing anything at all. But maybe that's why this is happening. My heart needs to set right. It can't keep going, collecting more and more improperly set injuries as it goes along. That gig would be up pretty quick. I'm hoping that this is the bigger purpose; or that there is a bigger purpose. That there is a greater good and a greater happiness and I am heading towards it. I need my faith to get through this. Right now it is literally the only thing holding me together. And my belief is the only thing keeping me up and still going. I need to believe that there is a purpose and that guidance is always with me.

I Wish.

I'm not even close to being a priority, I'm at the bottom of his list. If I'm even in it at all. Most likely I'm not. It hurts that he doesn't want to spend time with me the way I want to with him. It hurts that he doesn't miss me at all when all I can do is miss him every day in and day out. It hurts that he once looked at another in the same way I wish he'd look at me. In the way I look at him. I wish I make him happy, the way he does me. So tonight I wish that he was here holding me and that he will love me too. A futile wish perhaps. But we all have that one thing we hope for. And just because it can't come true, doesn't mean that I am wrong for wanting it. 

Growing Up.

I can't believe I'm 25 now. Where did all the years go? It all seemed like yesterday when I was just an early teen. A child. And yet, it also seemed like forever since then. You never realise it. It just creeps up on you, growing up. You just go day by day and then year by year. Through high school then college then university and suddenly when you blink and wake up, you realise it's been 7 years and you're an adult now. You're not approaching adulthood, or entering it or on the brink of it. You're there. And sometimes it still never really feels like you're there. You'd think it was a very different place. Where you'd feel different and be different. Almost like a different person. So how can you be an adult? When you still feel like... You? But I guess that's what childhood does to the image of adulthood. It's seen through un-understanding eyes and because of the vast difference that you see between their world and yours, you never really see that it's always gonna be you; going through the different stages in life. 

I can't believe I'm 25. I'm an adult now. I'm there. And it doesn't feel like it, and maybe it never will. But I'm there. And I can't believe it. I've spent the last few years of my life getting my heart broken and getting sad and upset and depressed and devastated and focusing on my misery and heartbreak every single day. I never noticed the days creeping by but now I do notice, I've spent the days of the last few years of my life getting my heart broken and licking my wounds and trying to get back up and then getting it broken again and then back to feeling sorry for myself and nursing my broken heart. I don't know why this has been so colourful. I still don't know why. But the last few years have been a steep, steep learning curve for me. I've learned from one experience after another, and getting hurt again and again, in different ways and it's changed the way I see the world and people almost completely. And maybe that means it's changed me as well. I don't know why I had to spend the last few years learning and getting my heart broken, and I wonder sometimes. Is there a larger purpose to it all. But I don't know. All I know is that love has brought me and put me in places that I never thought I was capable of going. Doing things I never thought I'd do for another person. Even at the expense of my own sanity. And I don't know why love has had to be so cruel to me, breaking my heart again and again so many times. Or maybe it hasn't been that many times. It's just that this time hurts so much that it feels like a thousand different heartbreaks. I don't know what changed. Is it me? Is it circumstance? But for some reason I'm unable to let go of this one the way I could let go of all the others before me. I keep on getting this irrational feeling that this is the one. It's irrational and it's persistent and quite frankly, fucking baffling. It doesn't make sense. Either it's a sign or it's the delusions of an obsessed mind but I'm certainly afraid as hell that it's the latter. Like I need any help making things worse for myself. I need to just stop kidding myself. 

I told a friend today. And it was such a relief. It felt so good to just let it out. Now next step is to tell him. And I'm so afraid... I'm so afraid that telling him means I am ending everything. And that he will walk away from me and never look back. Things are already bad enough now between us and it's probably not fixable no matter how much I wish I could turn back time and undo it. And I'm afraid that I'm gonna lose him for good if and when I tell him. I know I must tell him. Something inside me compels me to do it. It feels like the right thing to do regardless of what my reasons are; divine intervention or obsession leading to self persuasion. But I am so afraid that that means I will lose him for good. That he will turn around, walk away and never look back. And I'm dreading it. I feel like chickening out from the decision every time. I don't want to lose him. I love him so much. And every single optimistic solution or way forward that I figure out for myself gets lost by the wayside after a day or two because I'm too weak and too scared to hold on to them with enough belief and conviction to make them continue. I'm too scared of being wrong and then having my hopes dashed again. I don't know what to do. I'm a mess. I'm such a confused mess right now. But I know one thing. I have to do it. It's time. It doesn't matter how much I'm scared of doing it and the results that it can entail; I have to do it. 

We All Have Our Own Sorrows.

We all have our own sorrows. I look to my left and to my right, and I am surrounded by people who have their own sorrows. The girl on my left, she too has had bad luck in love and had her heart broken by someone who wasn't worthy of it to begin with. And there are people who are upset because of the bad grades they maybe received today. Because of the fear of the prospect of receiving bad grades. Because they perceive themselves to be disliked by others. Because they were treated disrespectfully. Because they are embroiled in a course that breaks down your walls of confidence and makes you feel like shit. We all have our own sorrows. The story is never really only knee deep. And we cannot hope to understand most of what others may be going through. We are after all only huma. We are flawed and short-sighted in our vision; and selfish, and uncaring and we only have the capacity to deal with what lies within our world and nothing else outside of it. But I suppose this is how it is meant to be. This is biology. And we who have gained sentience, we realise this and we question it and we think long and hard about it but we can never change it.

It has been a subject of great dilemma for me. There came a suddenly rush of people with sorrows the moment when I decided to maybe put aside my own and try to forget and rid myself of negativity. An ambitious pursuit sure, but it was about time. Then the rush came and I was a but overwhelmed. Naturally I was annoyed. Part of me knew that all sorrows are legitimate because they are real to the person feeling it regardless of how we think of it. It would be arrogant of anyone to claim otherwise. Reality is our perception of it. But it was difficult to bear that in mind when suddenly people were coming along with what felt like unmeritorious claims to my all too human heart or less meritorious claims. I was struggling, feeling like I was pulling a load with every effort of mine to shrug off negativity but there were people left and right, obsessed and depressed and leaning on me for smaller issues than my own. A primal part of me grit its teeth in frustration and impatience. I wanted to shrug them off, tired of dealing with my own problems alone as well as theirs. But I felt guilty. Guilty and ashamed of my own selfishness. We all hope to have someone to lean on when times of trouble come a-calling. And naturally we wouldn't lean on those we do not trust. And let's face it, no one finds it fun to be the wall that someone constantly bounces their problems off of, especially the same problems all the damn time. I know what it is like to have been rebuked by someone who I trusted but turned out couldn't care less about me and I do not want to inflict that pain upon anybody. But I was tired, and I was feeling somewhat at the edge of my capacity. And I felt guilty for my less than noble thoughts. There is a saying I read somewhere that said, "Your greatest test is when you are able to bless someone else while you are going through your own storm." So does that mean I have failed the test? Have I passed?

We all have our own sorrows. I love him so much. But I can't take this anymore. I must let go. The very thought of it brings tears to my eyes and I hurt so much I can practically feel my heart slowly pulling apart down the centre. I can practically hear the bleeding crack while it breaks all over again. Why does he treat me like this? What have I done to deserve this. Questions no doubt every woman in a bad arrnagement with someone they love have no doubt asked endlessly to no avail. I can't take this anymore. I must let go.

Hurt.

I don't know where I am in this limbo now. But I can't exist like this forever. I have not decided what to do. Whether to tell him or to not; whether to leave or stay. It's true my heart aches at the very thought of leaving him. But it aches even more when he turns on me and throws all these hurtful words at me. When he ignores me and makes it obvious I don't matter to him. When I know he's talking to another girl, that I've been replaced in his affections, if there were any affections to begin with. I'm tired of fighting for my man's attention like a group of concubines. Always trying to figure out what to do to please him so I can win his favour. It's disgusting and I don't want to do that but somehow, I have inadvertently subjected myself to that. I'm afraid of his texts. Because I'm afraid of what he'll reply and what he'll say. I'm afraid that the next thing he says will score another deep rend in my already broken heart. How much more beating can my heart be expected to take? I think about all my experiences with love and I realise that this world is far more complicated than I expected. Or perhaps it is I who make it complicated? 

It's like I'm an addict. But instead of drugs or alcohol, my addiction is to misery and pain. I feel a sort of rush every time a small amount of pain or sadness pangs in my heart. But too much and I feel sick, and heavy and laden and overwhelmed. And yet somehow once you've had that initial pang, you can't seem to stop going for more and more. Just like a teenager on a night out binge drink. And then I overdose and I feel like I'm a worthless failure and all the despair and misery I've indulged in destroys me bit by bit on the inside. I feel like I'm trying to come up from under an addiction these days. With the positiveness I'm trying to enforce in my life and making sure I don't wallow anymore. It's like trying to break free from an addiction. It's a constant effort to keep reminding yourself. It's constant willpower trying to drag yourself up from under whatever rut your habits have allowed you to instinctively fall into or preventing yourself from falling into one. Part of me feels like letting go and letting the abyss swallow me whole but I know that if I were to do that it would be to my own demise and I would spend more time running around in endless circles feeling sorry for myself and going nowhere.  

I love him but I don't know what to do anymore. He hurts me more than I expected he could. Sometimes I think of all the sweet things he used to do, the very things that made me fall deeper and deeper in love with him, and I feel the pang. And I have to remind myself that he didn't do those things because he ever cared for me. It was just an illusion I wanted to believe. None of it meant a single thing neither should they have ever meant a single thing to me. I want to fall into his arms in sweet blissful surrender. I want to breathe in the scent of his neck and feel his warmth, his body wrapped around mine and just lie there in such bliss feeling like the luckiest girl in the world that the man I love, he loves me. But it is not to be. I want to be able to confide in him and have him give me comfort for he is the only one who can. Who can make things right for me and make me feel like everything is going to turn out right because I have his love and I am truly fulfilled. But he doesn't want to hear a single word I say. He doesn't even want to talk to me anymore. And if it weren't for the fact that I am a particularly versatile toy for him, he would want to have nothing to do with me. And one day when he finds another versatile toy, I will be replaced and redundant for good for I have no value to him. Worse, if he finds love in someone else... I will just fade away into oblivion as another one of his numerous indiscretions enacted in the throes of his confusion and his search and escapism. I would become just another bottle of beer in an alcoholic's long trip of alcoholism. One of many items of poison he chose to indulge in and then forgotten. The thought of it hurts my heart like no other. But... What can I do? 

They say that the heart must accept what the mind already knows but how can I? I'm trying my very best but my mind is as convoluted as my heart has successfully poisoned it to its seductions. I am confused and overwhelmed and I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Am I doing the right thing in denying my pain to be felt? Is it healthy considering that my pain is a chronic unhealthy habit, and addiction or am I just suppressing it instead of curing it? I wanted to talk to him, to ask him for advice, but a part of me stops myself from doing it because life was better when I felt that I'd given up on him somewhat. Not texting him, not replying to his texts, not wishing to contact him. For a little while maybe not needing his presence in my life if only because my heart feels so hurt that it can't bear more hurt. And any interaction with him especially positive interaction with him breaks the spells and flings me back into the throes of my hopeless adoration of him. And so I am conflicted. What do I do? On the one hand confide in him and risk the ever hurtful remarks and replies. On the other hand, keep it to myself and keep thinking about it all day every day wondering if maybe perhaps I should do it, or not. 

A large part of me is angry and have been angry for some time now. Is loving him a sin? Why am I punished so for loving him and heaving under a mound of shame and guilt for my feelings for him? Why is it so wrong? Is it so wrong?? And I had i nervous breakdown. Because of my love for him, because of the hormones maybe, I had a nervous breakdown. And no one has suffered more for it than me. So what gives him the right to even FEEL like he has the right to punish me for, what wrong? No wrong that I did! I didn't hurt him he was virtually unaffected. Is he mad that I ruined his favourite toy by besmirching her image and showing to him that I am human with very real feelings after all? But that's not reasonable. And that's not a reasonable thing to blame me for. And yet I am being punished. For daring to indulge in my feelings, for being down, for not being able to control my expressions of emotions around him for a short while. For my small short failure, everything I held dear about our relationship is gone for good. It doesn't seem fair. It isn't fair. Whatever his reasons are, I am being punished because now he can no longer see me the same way and have the same affections for me. Why? Because I dared to be human and I dared to be weak. Or he's angry at me. Why? Because I dared to be human and I dared to be weak and I dared to inconvenience him with it. If he only knew how much hurt I've suffered just for him, by him and because of him alone. If he knew how much he's hurt me.