It comes in waves. It hits me in waves. I go through moments and hours thinking that I’ve possibly forgotten about it, then it punches me in the face. I feel like I have ran into a wall full speed -no second thoughts. Then it feels like it has stopped, hence the waves. Worst part is that I drown in every single one of those waves. I drown so deep down the ocean of all these feelings and emotions. I feel so breathless, so naive, so heavy. Each wave eats me alive, swirls me left and right, takes me to the deep dark browns and blues, then finally slaps me down on the cold glassy sands. But it doesn’t end there, right when I think that I’ve possibly forgotten about it, it pulls me in -right back into the infinite waves. Am I that crazy to love this?


What matters more?

Your love for someone or your anger and grief for that same person?

But then again the answer is latter if there is no love or even a trace of it to begin with.


Woke up at 3 shitty in the morning to go for a run. I can’t sleep, eat or think clearly; I can’t do anything. It’s like half of my brain is missing. I was running so fast, I didn’t see the beaming lights of that car coming towards me; I don’t even recall the honks.

I was pulled into the sidewalk, but when I looked to see who it was, I didn’t see anyone -too dark, lonely and early for anyone to be awake even. So who pulled me in? I felt their arms. I can’t say anything and I can’t do what I want and need to do. I’m partially going insane.

My insides are broken into a million pieces and I feel like I’m walking on water, but gradually breaking the surface barrier and going in to drown and finally end the misery. This is too harsh of a punishment and it’s sucking the life out of me. Why couldn’t you just see me again? What is so damn important that you’d rather be the way you are now?


I need to fix myself. I am broken, I am hurt, I am shattered, I am 1001 ways of wrong. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to go, I don’t know how to deal with everything without breaking others in the process. I ran out of things to do or say. I’m not enough for anything. I’m not enough for you, I’m not enough for me, I’m not enough for this family, I’m not enough for my own sake. Everyone needs an explanation from me. I take a single breath and I need to explain to everyone a thousand times, why I took that one breath a certain way. If I’m grieving, I have to explain to everyone why I’m grieving, why this long, why this way, why now, why not now.. I have to explain everything. If I’m sad, I have to explain to everyone why and how I’m sad, and immediately stop being sad as well because how dare I continue being sad. How dare I be sad to begin with. I should stop being sad, I should stop feeling the blues, I should stop feeling depressed because nobody has time for that. How dare I not want to talk to anyone? How dare I want to be alone? How dare I want to be isolated and left in the corner, unattended like an old forgotten crystal vase? I can’t fucking fathom the fact that I’m so broken that I’m losing people because of it. How do I fix this? How do I fix what I broke in others, when I can’t even fix what’s broken in me? ahh.. Just fucking throw me out with the trash.


It has been almost 9 months since she has been gone. I have been in absolute mental and physical pain since then. Every second of every day has been an agonizing pain, a misfortune of great foreshadowings to events that will yet to kill me over and over and over as I will be losing another being close to my heart and soul very soon again. Never mind, it won’t be just one person, it will be two beings. Two beings that I would’ve rather died right here and now in order to save them. I am not entirely sure if I can go through this again specially this soon. I’m saying i’m not sure because I have never been sure of being able to go through anything dramatically tragic in my life and looking back, I have been through a lifetime worth of dramatically tragic events in my life-but then again I have always proven myself wrong in every aspect of anything in my life. For all I know, I will probably survive this too. It will kill me for the thousandth time, but I will keep breathing. For whom? For what? I don’t know, but I know that will be it. No more after this, I will not survive the one after that.


You never think you’re there until you’re right there and you think “holy shit, this is it. This is where it all ends.” Then you hope for a plot twist, but you don’t get it because you’re not even remotely lucky enough for a plot twist in this story. Then there’s also the thing where you never know what to tell to whom. Who doesn’t judge you? Who listens to you? Who truly understands you? Who gets you? Who will comfort you even the smallest bit? Who has your back? Who do you trust with all of the above? Shhhh, listen. Lay down somewhere in absolute dark. Listen. Does your heart beat? Barely. Are you able to think? Loudly. So stand up and walk away. Walk away while you still can.


Moments of clarity come by rarely, followed by several episodes of haze. The constant state of not being sure of what the hell happened, what the hell is going on, and what the hell will happen is quite exhausting and infuriating. This love-hate push and pull wave is drowning me in you, day by day. It’s not that I don’t know or that I don’t want to know. It’s also not that I’m not making an effort. I’m making all the efforts in the world, but somehow I am lost in this unknown haze where I don’t even know if you’re in it or not. I don’t need a map, I can figure out the directions on my own; however, I need to know the distance and I need to know the timeframe. It’s physics and math –it’s practical and definite. I mean, otherwise I’ll be wondering around the same circles over and over trying to reach something purely hypothetical. I want to be clear, but I can’t. You stop me. Sometimes it feels like I’m alone in this war zone and I have to fight every battle on my own which is fine because I’m used to it, but then I can’t see the other side. Who the hell am I fighting? What if this isn’t even real? What if I misguided myself into this? What if I’m clinging onto flashes of something that I made up in my mind and you know, my heart for that matter? What if you’re just several episodes of haze stuck in the clarity of my existence trying to eat away my soul?