And they lived happily ever after! Separately.


Its been almost 5 years since we last spoke, (though bitterly) but I’ve decided your decision was the strongest thing you could of done. I’m afraid my choice of words will not give justice to how beautiful you are, inside and out. 

Love, its a funny old thing. Is it the key to happiness or the lock around sadness? I still haven’t worked that one out, but what I have worked out that resenting you for not choosing me was ridiculous.

I think it would have been a lot easier if it was just about a fling, but in year we spent getting to know each other we never took it that far. We didn’t have to and that’s why it was so hard to let you go. In a way building up a relationship, that clearly means more than friendship and flirting. 

You captivated me in a way that no other girl has. Solely through companionship and conversation and for that I had the up most respect for you. It was crazy how in short time we got to know each other. But alas, after months of strengthening our bond and months of guilt on my end, it all came to an abrupt end

It’s not so much I regret giving you the age old ultimatum of “me or him”, but rather the events that led after it. To this day I can remember the conversation word for word and to this day I regret it. I refused to be the silver medal in our 21st century love triangle. What I do regret is how we ended, what I thought about you and how I acted.

It’s extremely easy to get caught up in the world of movies, the internet and Nicholas Spark qoutes.I was so swept up in the love story’s portrayed to us in the media, I was upset and angry.

And for that, I’m truly sorry. To be quite frank, all those things are bullshit. I was blinded by my resentment and my silver medal to see how strong you actually were. The easiest thing you could of done, was up sticks and leave to be with me. The grass is always greener right? That guy that bought you things, paid for dinner, that made it special every time you spent time together. The hardest, strongest most amazing thing you could of done, was to stick with the guy you argued with. The guy you lived with, enjoyed with. Hated and loved, the guy that made you cry or pushed you away only to bring you back in again.

You are an incredibly strong and individual, and I have nothing but the up most respect now, for what you had to do. The fact that you stuck to your commitments, and your bold decisions is a true testament to your character when your “happily ever after” had supposedly presented itself. You deserved that and much more. 

Respect always


Just One of Them Days…


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Stop feeling sad for no reason. Stop placing all of your happiness into whether or not your crush will text you back. Stop feeling a vague sense of melancholy, something that you aren’t able to pinpoint but you know is there.

I woke up today feeling that quiet sense of melancholy. The steps I took on the way to the bathroom felt heavy and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see myself cringing. This doesn’t happen very often, I don’t usually meet the day with a “Screw you!” kind of attitude but when I do, I get angry. How is it possible to feel so crappy at 8:30 in the morning? Actually wait, how is it possible to feel great at 8:30 in the morning? This is dumb though. These feelings aren’t real. I’m choosing to be in a sour mood. When there’s nothing there to make me feel sad, it’s quite clear that I’m the reason. I’m the one who’s making myself feel miserable. And since I’m the one who got me there, I can also be the one who gets me out.

For those of us who don’t have chemical imbalances but are rather just prone to feeling a boatload of emotions, we have to learn not to indulge every thought we have. It’s difficult though. With people who suffer from analysis paralysis and melancholia, it’s like we’re constantly betraying ourselves. We get upset over minute things and then get upset over the fact that we’re upset. We get sad that the amazing person we were in love with last year hasn’t called us after breakup, and then we get angry at ourselves for giving the person so much power. We choose the things that control us. We give our phone a lot of power. We get bummed out about text messages and phone calls and, oh my god, it shows that they read my text but haven’t responded back! Screw blue ticks! We give the internet a lot of power. When someone doesn’t follow us back on Twitter or like our instagram picture, we fall into a spiral of grief. Why? On top of that, this God damn internet has glamorised the sadness! Be it whatsapp or facebook, we tell people that we are sad and expect them to be sad with us, FEELING SAD WITH 100 OTHERS’ and then we get sad because no one gave a damn! Since when did sad and depressed become a trend. Hashtag sad! Whatsapp status sad! Retweet sad qoutes! They seriously need to define a new mental sickness.

Let’s stop romanticizing sadness and start seeing it for what it really is. We need to start figuring out what emotions are legitimate and which ones are bogus. If you’re feeling things every minute of every day, some posers are bound to sneak in through the back door of your brain. These posers are meant to veer you off track and get you upset for no reason, but they don’t come from a genuine place. They’re as fake as Gucci loafers in our city. We don’t like to admit it but sometimes we like falling into ruts for no reason. It reminds us that we’re alive and that SOMETHING is happening to us. Who cares if it’s good or bad?! I’m sad and it’s better than nothing!

Except it’s not better. In fact it’s a lot worse. All of those times you feel this vague sense of sadness, all of those times you let the posers in, add up to something major in the end. So we have to stop indulging every emotion we have. We have to realize we have control over these blue “JUST ONE OF THEM DAYS” kind of moods. Because they’re so not real. Seriously. Screw blue for giving vague sadness some power! Not a month goes by that someone doesn’t post that video on their Facebook with the caption: “Sing it. Just one of them days…” Give yourself more credit than that. You know what I did this morning when I felt myself going into BLUE territory? I stopped the “Just one of them days” bus and danced to some Trance. Now I’m all better. Don’t let your emotions punk you. Chances are you’re feeling something that’s not even there. 

The ‘normal’ fantasy


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Sometimes I wonder if I’m actually crazy, if my rare 28-year-old neuroses extend beyond the typical and veer into Forrest Gump territory. Admittedly, these moments don’t happen too often. As a whole, I feel very well-adjusted, happy and have a high quality of life, but sometimes things will happen that will have me questioning my sanity.

I’m sure we all have these moments when we creep ourselves out with our thoughts and behavior. We have to talk to ourselves and be like, “Okay, you’re being a crazy person. Just stop.” and then we usually do. We curb those weird feelings that freak us out and go about our day as a happy functioning person of society. But I think in this day and age especially when we feel ruled by social norms, “going crazy” has been exoticised. Not abiding by the implicit rules feels extremely liberating.

A few weeks ago, I was having one of those blue “Just one of them days” moments where I felt like I was going to cry if someone just looked at me cross-eyed. I mean, I wouldn’t actually cry because ever since I went through puberty, my tear ducts became frozen and will only start to thaw when something really traumatic happens, but I still felt like it maybe could happen at any moment. Crying. In public. Being crazy. I could see it happening. Someone would bump into me on the street and it would unleash the floodgates. They would ask me what’s wrong and I would tell them in between sobs, “I’m just being me” and run away.

My fragile psyche came to a head that day when I was at a automobile workshop to get my insurance claim for my accidental car. When it came to be my turn, the Insurance lady told me that my car insurance actually hadn’t been filled and needed authorization. I told her that I already called my agent and ************************ (real life boring information). She didn’t care. She was not budging. Bye.

    Basically my sanity was hanging by a thread at this point and I actually thought I was going to start sobbing right then and there. I wanted to scream at her and be like, “YOU ARE ACTUALLY RUINING MY LIFE RIGHT NOW. I HATE YOU SO MUCH. I WANT TO CTRL ALT DELETE YOU!” But I didn’t. Oh my god, I would never! That would make me…crazy.

Incidentally, scenarios like the one listed above make up the bulk of my “I’m going crazy” fantasies—me screaming at strangers in those workshops or at restaurants, or on the street. It’s me being that person who’s making everyone else around them uncomfortable by acting insane. And I’ve realized that if that’s my crazy fantasy, then maybe I’m the most normal person on earth. Because I think everyone secretly would like to lose their shit at a stranger and afterwards be like, “I’m sorry but thank you! I feel so much better now!” Or not. Maybe I’m misjudging the entire situation and I’m actually cray cray.
It’s just funny to me how everyone worries so much about their sanity. They worry that their actions might be perceived as weird (no wants to be the crazy friend) so they walk on eggshells. They say the right things, they make sure to not come off as strange. This hyper attention to being “normal” is probably what fuels our desire to go a little nuts. It’s what makes us want to message our ex’s new BF/GF and say, “I lurk you every day. There. I admit it. I don’t care!” or scream at the person in front of us for walking too slow. As of yet, I haven’t actually succumbed to my crazy fantasies but I’ve got time. One day I’m going to do something really weird in public and it will probably feel like the most normal thing I’ve done in a long time. 

The unsent “Raven”


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I don’t know where to start with what I’m about to say. I don’t know if it’s a good idea that I’m doing this and I don’t know how much harm it will cause. I don’t know if this is right for me to do and I know this isn’t fair. So if you can’t handle what I’m going to say you’re more than welcome to not read any further, I’ll give you that escape from this because I’ve caused enough pain throughout the times we were together that you can cause the pain right back and never answer again. It wouldn’t be cruel and it wouldn’t be mean because it would be a reaction to the pain I’ve caused you. 

I don’t know what you’re doing, I don’t know if you got a new job or what TV shows you watch now. I don’t know what your new suits look like that you undoubtedly bought more of, because you love to shop. I don’t know where your mind wanders off to as you play those silly games on your phone. I don’t know what time you set your alarm to wake up in the morning and I don’t know what time you leave your home for work, if you have to go for work, that is. I don’t know what your family dinners are anymore and I don’t know what friends you hang out with, probably the same ones as always. I don’t know what your day consists of, I don’t know what people you come across and I don’t know how your family is doing. I don’t know if you changed the colors of the sheets in your room, if you still do your lazy workouts, I don’t know if you’ve been sick in the past couple months—even just a common cold; I always knew. I don’t know when your next vacation will be, where will you go and if you will still be scared or excited about it. I don’t know anything anymore. You could be a new person and I would have no idea.
Life is never black and white, we are always floating in infinite shades of gray and I think that it’s both a blessing and a curse that we have no answers for all of this madness.

I’m sorry if this ruined everything. I’m sorry if it was pointless. I’m sorry if you hate me more. 

I haven’t talked to you in for long and I need you to clearly understand that lack of communication is not lack of love. 

Things weren’t easy. Things didn’t end easily. Things still aren’t easy. I love you in every shade of gray that there is in the world, I just can’t be with you. 

The Point in being lost!!!?


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Sometimes, I am taken aback by the abruptness and deliberateness with which I can suddenly go from having a firm grasp on what and where my place is in this world, to feeling so utterly and completely lost that I wake up dizzy in the middle of the night, feeling in the dark for a lamp on the windowsill behind me only to realize that this is not home, and that this might never be home. They say that foster homes can never explore, and I try to remind myself that cutting ties is supposed to free me up for bigger and better things, but lately the freedom doesn’t feel as liberating as I had hope.


 Because I have been lost before. The first time I was lost, my already teetering relationship with my family crashed and burned in a fit of hurtful accusations and a relentless refusal to compromise on both of our parts. Guess intractability is in our blood. Add to that mix a devastatingly contradictory difference in our thoughts, and we understood that our relationship had become a land mine.

The next time I was lost, That was first love— so much so that I failed to look up until I began feeling the growing pains of wanting something bigger than what our love could provide. It hurt me to hurt her, It cut my chest into pieces when i broke her heart mercilessly but our relationship had become an old favorite sweater — one I knew I had long outgrown and abused it but stubbornly continued to wear. I was lost in the sad realization that you can love something with all your heart, but that won’t stop it from becoming a bad fit, nor will it keep you from thriving without it. And it wasn’t until I woke up one morning, neckline too tight, so tight that it could kill me by just holding my throat, that I had finally decided the time had come to let her go.

The last time I was lost, I knew exactly where I was. I knew that I was nowhere near where I needed to be, but I decided to stay lost, because that is where she found me. And I knew she was a dead end the moment we talked again but her attention felt so good that I stayed. I think a small part of me believed that we could find our way together, but after a coupl of months  of allowing myself to be blindly led deeper and deeper into the maze by the worst kind of love you can imagine, I cut my losses and decided it was time to go it alone.

I had been lost for so long that I didn’t even know when I found what I was looking for. But I did find it. I found it in the quiet Winter nights when I could lay there with my thoughts, no longer feeling the need to jump out of bed and immediately fill my days with pointless activities. I found it in my little nephew in his gap toothed smiles; I saw it in his eyes as he anxiously searched for me and I felt it in the way he would sprint full speed at my legs with a force stronger than should have been possible for such a small person. I found it in my best friends who provide the kind of unconditional love that any average human can only dream of being able to harbor for each other, and I found that I was capable of loving them back just as fiercely. 

I found parts of myself in so many ways, in so many places, in so many people. And I may not have it all figured out yet, but I have enough to know that I can be lost without feeling like I am.