then it hit me, i got everyone i need: notes from 2015

for the first time in a really long time—i didn’t run.

Advertisements

i have been trying, for weeks now, to come up with a set of words that will perfectly describe how this year went for me. and i have failed all of those attempts because–i just realized–that i find it hard to write when i’m happy.

2015 has been one of my best years–if not the best of my years. 2015 has had its lows; but the highs–my God, the highs–were too good for words.

i don’t think i deserve it, not really.

the past few years, i’ve been called names: cold, dead, harsh, mean, heartless–all of which can be pointed to that coldness in my heart that i can turn on and off anytime i wanted to. i wasn’t born, nor raised, warm. i have a tendency to run when people get too close or when things get too hard.

when i’m getting more than what i bargained for, i find the nearest exit and head that way without looking back.

once, i thought of myself as a puzzle–something to figure out, something to put together. but a few years and a couple of experiences later, i’ve learned that i’m more of like a hurricane. i come in and i destroy, and i leave without remorse. it makes sense to me sometimes why storms are named after people.

so yeah, i don’t think i deserve how this year turned out for me.

for some weird reason, my stars have aligned. see, i’ve had good days. i’ve had good months. but i’ve never had a good year. i’ve never had a year that i could look back when i’m older and think, “this year, this year is when it all started coming together.”

i’m probably overstating it. this, definitely, isn’t the year that i finally get it all figured out. #Spiraling2k15 was my year-long hashtag for a reason. but this year has been one brave year for me—a year where i’ve slowed down on putting walls around myself.

and I think, the moment i started giving people a chance did it really occur to me that some people can stay far longer than i’ve expected them to. the moment i accepted that maybe, i am someone worthy enough to be loved—that’s when it all started making sense.

i have people in my life now—solid, unmoving; and those i know will be there for me even if i am sometimes the most difficult person in the world. and perhaps, i’ve had them all along but i was just too blinded by my trust issues to see it.

2015 has been all about seeing for me. seeing the world, or some parts of it. seeing past my weaknesses to focus on becoming the person my younger self would probably be really proud of. seeing that some people come and can stay. seeing that my life is no longer a revolving door of people who come and go.

i didn’t ask for many things this year. i, honestly, don’t really ask for a lot of things at all. and maybe, that’s one of my faults—i don’t ever ask for anything ever because i was so focused on believing that i’m such a horrible person and i don’t deserve anything or anyone.

this year, i’ve finally gotten one step closer to finally forgiving myself for all those hearts i’ve broken before because i didn’t stay long enough for them to love me fully and with promises of forever, or promises of never making the same mistakes my parents did. i’ve finally stopped punishing myself for the all the homes i’ve wrecked, the people i’ve destroyed, and the friendships i’ve burned to hell.

i’m a goddamn hurricane on my bad days. but i’m an entire galaxy on my good ones.

and this year, i’ve started to talk myself into believing that it’s okay to receive love even when we don’t deserve it, even when we’re a hurricane. because some of us, some of us can give an entire universe on our good days—and all it takes is someone who will stay for both of those days.

i can’t say that i’ve gotten full circle with believing but i’m on my way there. for the first time in such a really, really wrong time, i find myself being surrounded by people who’re proud of who i am becoming.

it was a real struggle: getting here. i spent 20+ years of my life believing i’m not enough for absolutely anyone but i guess it happens at some point. you will reach a certain point in your life where the most important thing you can do in a day is to get the fuck out of bed and just take what’s coming with arms wide open.

it’s scary, the amount of things we can lose in a day. but if i spent all of 2015 being scared off by people—of love—i wouldn’t be writing this blog with such lightness in my heart.

i don’t know if anyone’s still here even if this is lengthy. but with teary eyes, i say, keep going. no matter where you are in your life right now, keep going. get the fuck out of bed tomorrow and the day after and again the day after—because the day will come that your wounds and your injuries will no longer threaten you. that your hurricane and your storm will not scare people off.

be brave enough to stand in the middle of what scares you and stay long enough this time to see if there’s really anything to be scared of. find the demons under your bed, look them in the eyes, and tell them that you’re not going anywhere—because you know what’s scarier than the demons under your bed?

you—and all the ways you can destroy yourself by isolating yourself from the world, from the people who can potentially love you on your hurricane days.

2015 has given me people—and that’s because i didn’t run.

for the first time in a really long time—i didn’t run.

(at some point in the last few days, it hit me. i got everyone I need.)

“how do you push through all of it?” they ask

i wake up every morning with one single goal: to make it through the day without crying.

you know what i did for the weekend?

i spent the entire weekend sulking in my bedroom, waiting for my phone to alert me with a message i’m 90% sure will never come.

it didn’t. i never got that text message and once i told my friend this, she said: they didn’t send you any message. i think you get the message.

and then i got mad and ran about 5 kilometers around the neighborhood.

this morning, a friend–who’s probably as heartbroken as i seem to be–called me and asked me, how do you get over it? how do you get over the pain?

and yes, people apparently still ask this question these days.

honestly, i don’t know.

how does one stumble from one heartbreak to another and not throw their hands up in the air to surrender?

in a world full of cruel realities, i think, one of our many consolations is that every cell in our body dies every seven years and isn’t it amazing to think that seven years from now, you’re practically someone new; that there will be a new version of you that’s never been touched or never been broken by the same thing over and over?

i never really had an answer for my friend as i, too, don’t have any idea of how to get over the current slump i’m currently plastered to.

the thing about slumps is that there’s no way to avoid them. no matter what aspect of life we’re referring to, there’s always going to be this one big slump of a heartbreak that’ll feel like dying, sometimes worse.

we can all change into our horrible sweaters and eat as many pints of ice cream as we can. we can sign up for a new activity, learn as many new things as we can. but at the end of the day, when we lay down in our beds, the thought still plagues our mind.

and i think that the most exhausting part about having slumps, or getting your heartbroken, is the one where we try our best to get over it but none of it works. none of it works because i don’t think there’s really a way to ignore that nagging feeling in your chest that reminds you that your life is no longer the way it was before; that awful feeling in your stomach upon realizing over and over that they’re not here anymore; or that sharp pain you feel in your lungs when you realize you’re not really good enough.

there’s a part where i, the queen of knowing what to do when her heart has been broken, even got to the point where i fuckin Googled how to move on (and what have you, WikiHow actually has a list with pictures).

so maybe there’s no actual way. but there’s a reality i’ve come to know after going through all the kinds of loves i’ve lost and the ones i never had–it’s that it takes time.

it takes time to build a new life. it takes time to replace the patches you’ve dedicated for someone else to fill. it takes time to learn a new way to live your life. it takes time to learn how to ignore that nagging feeling in your chest.

soon as i’ve learned to accept this truth, i started to learn how to push through every day of my life with this weight on my shoulders.

when a heart breaks royally, the pain never really goes away. you learn to live with it every day. you learn to build a path around it so you don’t pass by it and aggravate it even more. it becomes so deeply embedded into your soul that it almost feels like a second skin.

how do i push through? i’m not sure.

all i know is that i wake up everyday deciding to get out of bed even if it’s hard, even if the weight on my shoulders is becoming too heavy for me to carry.

i get up and start my day. i get up and face the mirror and see myself; sometimes i smile. i drink coffee and i go about life the way i used to. and i hang on to the cruel, harsh truth that the only way out is through.

i wake up every morning with one single goal: to make it through the day without crying. and i go to bed hoping that maybe tomorrow, it doesn’t hurt as much as it did the day before.

i repeat it everyday and who knows, maybe someday the pain wouldn’t threaten me anymore. maybe, one day, without any reason at all, on the most typical of days, i’d realize that it doesn’t hurt at all anymore.

will it work? i’ll let you know when it does.

the art of knowing when to stop

my heart is not whole, and you keep crushing it. but i spend night after night after night trying to rebuild it, just in case tomorrow you’re ready to take it.

“snap out of it,” my friend told me over and over. i don’t remember her feeling so much about a topic as she did when i told my tale about this hopelessly unrequited feelings i have for this particular person.

i laughed as a response to her very eloquent advice.

i thought, “if it was so easy to stop, do you think i’d ever want to stay here?”

of course not.

if i had any choice, i would’ve walked away soon as i saw all those yellow lights that blinked rapidly before my eyes, warning me to slow down. but feelings… feeling something isn’t like driving.

and while driving and speeding up and stop lights make a good metaphor for going for something, it’s not the best one i could use for growing feelings for someone i’m not supposed to feel something for.

i wish it was, really.

i wish there’s a pedal somewhere that i can step on and everything will just stop; and everything will be fine and everything will not be as scary. in an ideal world, we all have control over our emotions. in an ideal world, we all have a say in who our heart chooses to beat for.

but in an ideal world, there’s also no wars or only the right candidates are running for president.

so yeah. this isn’t, obviously, an ideal world.

’cause it’s in this world that i have fallen for someone who’s completely and impossibly oblivious to my feelings. it’s in this world did you fall for the person who never caught you. it’s in this world did you believe the promises they made when they were so happy.

i don’t know how to stop. i don’t know to stop smiling at the thought that there could be something–that in between the friendly jokes and the late night talks, something grew, something developed.

i don’t know how to stop hoping that in this world, although this isn’t an ideal world, you could fall for me, as hard as i have fallen. and God, I’ll catch you right. i’ll catch you so right, and enough, that you wouldn’t wish for anyone else. and i have never been enough for most of my life but i could be enough for you.

so yeah. if it was just so easy to stop, i would’ve stopped a long time ago. before i started hoping that the signals you were giving me actually meant something.

if it was just so easy to stop, i would’ve stopped a long time ago before i had known all your quirks, your story; before i’ve learned your language. before i’ve started knowing how your mood is just by looking at you from afar.

and up until this moment, i wish it was so easy to stop because trust me. i hate it here.

it’s worse than hope. it’s worse than anything i’ve ever felt in my entire life because having things halfway is never better than not having it all. i want to go back to a time when i don’t have a piece of you everyday. i want to go back to a time when you were just part of the artwork. when you were just in the background.

but i can’t remember a time before you. i don’t ever want to.

and it’s scary, i know. you’re terrified, i know. and i am, too–but damn it, it’s like fate has found a way to mess me up everyday because you’re my first thought in the morning and you’re my last at night. so how can i possibly stop, when you haunt me everyday. when the mere thought of you makes me get out of bed smiling.

my bestfriend tells me that my eyes light up when i tell them about you and i wonder if i could ever be someone that makes your eyes light up like that, too.

but i don’t deserve having you in halves when i’m offering you all of me, and the moon and the sky.

so i want to stop but i don’t know how.

if there’s someone out there who knows the fucking answer, give it to me ’cause i hate where i am now. you keep pushing and pulling. when all i want to do is steady your shaky hands and be here in this moment and feel how important this is because i think you know.

i think you know how much i feel for you and nothing sucks more than seeing you look past it everyday.

my heart is not whole, and you keep crushing it. but i spend night after night after night trying to rebuild it, just in case you’ll be ready to take it tomorrow.

i fucking hate living in your purgatory.

i spent 20-plus years trying to love myself and i don’t think i have that kinda time for somebody else.

(but if you asked me to stay, i will. because i’ll never be your sun but i can be your moon and your sky and who knows, someday, that would be enough.)

how to love without asking for anything in return

you can be scared and walk away as many time as you want. but when you’re done running, you know where to find me.

lol.

you can’t.

i don’t think it’s possible.

love, no matter what form, is a form of trap. something that begs for an answer even if it’s not a question. a form of starting a war. a form of a surrender. it’s a battlefield. it’s messy.

but when you do it right?

when you do it right, love–no matter what form–is almost always enough.

almost.

when you give something to the world, it’s human nature to expect something in return–a recognition, a thank you, a reward. when you love someone, your whole body begs even just for the slightest chance to be loved back, to be seen, to be the person they’ll tell strangers about.

in an ideal world, love is as simple as person A meeting person B. there’s no person C. there wouldn’t be a long list of people who disapproves.

in an ideal world, the person you love will decide to love you back as long as you want them to.

[in an ideal world, i am the exception to your rules.]

but this is not an ideal world.

this is a world full of cruel, melting realizations that some dreams never come true. that your love–no matter how pure, big, and genuine–isn’t always enough. worst, your love could be the most perfect thing in this universe but it’s just not what they need.

and trust me, i understand how frustrating it is to stand outside someone’s door, hoping with your eyes wide and your heart bare, that they’ll hold the door open long enough for you to walk in and stay.

the door remains closed. it rains. you stay for a while. and it’s cold but there’s probably nothing colder than the feeling of not being… it. of not being the person they’d want to stay.

[’cause you know, i’d stay. probably for a very long time, but i don’t think you’d ever let me.]

so maybe, love is also a form existing. of just being there, in that moment. taking what you can because it’s all you can have. and it sucks, to be the one with so much to give but with no one to give it to.

[and it’s you i want to give it to. it’s always been you.]

so what we do is we settle for the next best thing, to having things halfway, to believing that we could stand in the corner and love them from afar. to swear to love them without any agenda.

because maybe, love is also home.

[you can be scared and walk away as many time as you want. but when you’re done running, you know where to find me.]

if it’s just so easy to talk about feelings

and if it’s just so easy to talk about feelings, i’d ask you how the fuckin hell you don’t recognize the way I have loved you every day.

it’s funny. if it was just so easy to be honest about our feelings, we’d all be standing right outside someone’s door, professing a long-time crush, a long-unaddressed feeling, and probably some stalkerish devotion we’ve been keeping inside.

if it’s just so easy to talk about feelings, we’d all be standing right on someone’s lawn, holding up a boombox on top our heads, singing somebody a love song; and there’s going to be two less lonely people in this cruel world.

in another universe, had it been so easy to talk about how we feel, i’d be standing outside your door telling you that the other day, when you looked at me, i melted on the spot. not the kind of melting that had me weak on my knees but the kind where my breath hitched for a split second and there’s this rush of something really warm, like a very giddy feeling that is somehow able to block away every dark corner of my day.

if it was so easy to talk about feelings, i’d be telling you that there hasn’t been anybody else in the longest while that has made my heart skip a beat. and granted, you don’t know, but the other day, when you sat so close to me, I realized that I had imagined an entire world where everything isn’t the same, and in that world, you look at me the way I sometimes look at you.

if it was so simple to talk about feelings, I’d tell you that it has been a while since I thought about how easy it would be to just sleep and never wake up. I’d tell you that every morning since I’ve come to know you, I wake up really wanting to wake up. I’d tell you that you save me from myself everyday and when you smile or when you do that little laugh, you bring me closer and closer to believing that it’s so, so easy to be alive in a world that constantly weighs you down. and it’s probably minute, it probably doesn’t matter but if it had been so easy to talk about feelings, I’d tell you that in my world, you’re not the light. You’re that tiny crack that allows light to slither even in the darkest corners of my being.

if it was just so easy, I’d tell you that I have tried my very best to run, to delete every playlist I made for you but I can’t—because I’m a creature of habit and everytime I run, all roads seem to lead to you. and damn it, I have laughed to all your corny jokes, I’ve supported all your evil plans, I even respected the kind of distance you wanted for yourself—how do you not see it? how do you not fucking see the way I look at you like you’re the sun, like you mean so much to me, like I’d probably jump off a bridge if you asked me to.

If it was just so easy, I’d tell you that the other day, I saw you throw your head back in sheer laughter and your eyes shone of something so happy, so positive and I wanted to hold your hand and be the person who gets to do that just because I can; and I’d also tell you that sometimes, when you’re so confused, you’d crease your forehead like you’re figuring out the solution to world hunger. when you walk, you have this little bounce in your step. when you’re tired, your shoulders slack and you slouch on your chair like it’s nobody’s business. and you’re so wonderful, and gorgeous, and you’d hate it when I tell you this but you’re very nice; and all these little things about you make you so, so easy to love.

and if it’s just so easy to talk about feelings, i’d ask you how the fuckin’ hell you don’t recognize the way I have loved you every day.

if it’s just so easy, maybe, I wouldn’t be writing this. maybe I wouldn’t be writing all the poems I’ve shared on Instagram. maybe the writer in me would’ve died a long time ago.

if it’s just so easy, I’d probably stop offering you the moon and the sky even if you want the sun. if it’s just so easy, I’d be the sun but I’m not.

maybe the reason it’s so hard to talk about feelings is not because of fear of losing something, nor is it about the tons of things that could change. maybe it’s so hard to talk about feelings because we all could be standing right outside someone’s door—and after we’re done the door will remain closed.

maybe the reason we don’t use words for feelings is because sometimes, words are never enough. that even after a 1000-word blog, I’ll still never be the sun. i’ll forever be the girl who offered you the moon and the sky.

(and God damn it, stop looking at the fucking sun, asshole)