Tuesday, July 3, 2012

excerpts from the little black book




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" I'm scared that who I am isn't enough. That what I do wouldn't be enough. That my best isn't good enough"


"... going back and forth being okay then not, being scared one moment and being all come what may the next. I wish my thoughts would just swing to one side rather than go back and forth like a pendulum. It makes me want to slap myself. "


" ... made me so fucking scared. I don't know why it was like this yesterday. It was like all the wounds were unearthed. It wasn't like this before. Back then only the good memories rushed in and made me sad. But last night, all I wanted to do was run away because I was hurting so bad..."


"... even his presence was unsettling, it no longer brought comfort. Just hurt. "


" I can never forget the first time it happened. How I felt. When I just stared at the screen, I was so shocked, that I couldn't even cry. "


" I have never been so hurt as that very moment in time. "


" That was more than half a year back. Everything is still so vivid."


" I will never forget the months after that. How much pain I went through to get better. For him, for us. "


" He couldn't understand why I was so affected, simply because he didn't love me as much as I loved him. "


" I turned into someone I no longer recognised. "


" For someone like me who once never saw anyone as indispensable, losing the kind of love I had for him was even more painful."


" The second time it happened, I hardened my heart and left. I couldn't put myself through another few months of hurt, of feeling bad about myself again just to make it work with him. "


" That's the day I decided that words were nothing."


" Fucking words."



The morning after, 29 June 11.40am. I lied on the bed, plugged in the right songs and wrote and wrote. Cried myself silly as I wrote. What a joke. What an ironic coincidence. Just a week before, for the first time I came clean about how the breakup affected me. Then a week after, I experienced it first hand.


Who wouldn't want to remember just the good times? To love like you've never been hurt, to live like you've never fallen? I sure do.


But some things are just unavoidable, no matter how hard you try. How hard you try to push it all away. For sure the good ones are in plain sight, but at the moment, the damage done is staring at me in this garish shade of red. So bloody prominent. I wish I knew why, only now, but I don't.


And you don't understand. I've come to terms with that.


Every day I stare at my ink in the mirror, every single fucking day I go over and over again the meaning of it. Why I got it in the first place, because I'm so afraid of losing sight of all that.


" Everything happens for a reason. This too shall pass. "


And the anchor? It'll always be special.


Damn all these fucking sombre shit. Here's a cute cat to lighten the mood.


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There. All better now.



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