If everything was perfect

There would be no violence. No political bullshit, no terrorism, no broken hearts, no serial killers, baby killers, racism. There would be no poverty, no hate, no religious conflicts. If everything was perfect though, we would be worse off as the human race.

We wouldn’t know what it’s like to fight for freedom, to fight for our rights, to fight to be who we want to be. These fights make us stronger and wiser and confident. If everything was perfect I would not have fought with myself to tell myself it’s okay to move on from being wronged and to move on to someone that truly cares for you.

Because everything didn’t go perfectly, I got my heart broke again and I fell into sorrow again. But because everything didn’t go perfectly I saw who he really was and what he would do for you to make you happy. I saw his genuine nature, his kindness and his ability to make the best situation out of everything. He is patient and he fought through his own battles quietly even when all odds were against him. Because nothing went perfect for him we found each other, 8 years later.

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Experience means you know what’s best right?

So many times I’ve heard them say “I love you” or “You’re the best” or “There’s nobody else I want”. I’ve heard it so many times I actually can’t feel excited or happy that somebody said that to me and I can almost say I’m immune to those words. Sure, you can say that now but let’s see you say that a year from now, or two, if we even get to that point. I know when I toss those words out I mean them. I won’t ever take them back. So experience has taught me one thing about love and relationships: the typical things said are simply not enough. And never believe them.

I guess that’s kind of sad that I can’t believe in those words that are supposed to bring joy and are supposed to mean everything to someone. But it’s okay. Because experience tells me that the next person that can blow my mind away without using such typical responses or typical phrases is probably worth getting to know. But when you’re struggling to find a full time job while filling your time with a useless part time job, it gets hard to find someone like that. And I’m not even ready to go out to meet new people, flirt, and make myself jump into a new relationship. I don’t even think about relationships anymore. And where many of my friends do, or at least are contemplating on them, I can only smile and talk about it to appease their interest in them.

He’s my best friend and I care about him to bits. He’s my rock whenever I needed to be grounded, he’s my comfort whenever I needed to cry, and he’s always always there without fail, without disappointment. But experience means you know what’s best right?

what is pain

it doesn’t matter what made you sad, how it happened or how long it will last. whatever makes you experience the pain of sadness doesn’t escape your memory easily. it could be a death of a loved one, loss of finances, a break up, a rough patch in your life where nothing falls into place, nothing is going well for you. your career might be falling apart, or you hate it so much you come home dead every day, or your children refuse to talk to you.

for me, a couple things have gotten me very down and i’m sure i’m not the only one. after realizing the job i had landed before was nothing i had expected to be, including being a victim of unecessary pickiness and a non-encouraging environment, i had to leave it for the sake of my sanity. coming home everyday frustrated and angry and depressed wasn’t my idea of a good start to my career.

on top of that, i had recently found out my ex has a new girl now. which i’m sure she’s an amazing person. but that part of me just knows, she’s the reason why he left me. no matter how many times i tried to wrap my head around the reason he told me, “you aren’t a motivational drive for me”, it just couldn’t make sense to me. and so, when i had accidentally found out about this new girl, it all made sense. everything hit home. they met at his gym, where he basically lived, and she was a lifter. yes, that was all she had to be to have something going. and so i bawled, again, after 9 months of being as strong as i could to carry past the initial hurt, like a baby. everything hurt as much as the first time he left me to “explore with other guys” and the second time when he pulled me away from another man back into his arms just to leave me again. it’s so easy to handle it on the surface. it’s so easy to just shrug it off and say ‘it was for the best’ or ‘he wasn’t worth it, now i know’ but you can’t just dismiss memories, and experiences, like it was nothing that was worth remembering. every fucking memory in your life is worth remembering. that month of work, where my manager picked on the most ridiculous details to seeing another girl post on my ex’s post was very painful.

what is pain? is it that physical clenching of the heart or a physical wound which causes you to bleed or is it tears that just can’t stop when they had to, or rolling yourself into a ball in the washroom hoping nobody sees you? loving them to the ends of the earth only to have the dream of being together shattered by technical reasons is painful. having to leave someone you love because they’re not ready to face the world is painful. there are so many definitions of pain. but my personal definition of pain is how my heart feels since the beginning of the year. it’s in constant pain. it feels like theresĀ  a dead weight on it, unable to be lifted no matter how much i distract myself, how much i drive myself forward, how much i see friends, help them, or spend time with family. it’s like it’s caving in on itself, and honestly, i’m a little scared.

i can barely feel a pulse when i put my hand over it, and as i lie down in bed to get through another day, i can hear its faint beating in my ears.

that’s my pain.

“Have you ever wanted to forget?”

“If it’s something you’re meant to forget, you will. Without even thinking you want to forget it. Because, the more times you think you want to forget, the stronger those memories become, right? So doesn’t that mean that, deep in your subconscious, you think you really shouldn’t forget them?”

We know better.

It feels so good to talk to him again. Not an excited, romantic kind of talk. A normal, friendly, missing kind of talk. I miss him. Yeah, he was a great friend. My best friend. And I was treated so damn right.

But we know better. We miss the relationship. We both do. We missed the highs that came with it and even the lows. Not that we had a lot of those.

We know better than to tread backward. We know.  But knowing sometimes isn’t enough. 

My Imaginary Life

I’d be exhausted after a full day’s work. But I’d be happy- content- because I was able to finish what I wanted to finish for the day. Sure I’ve got projects lined up for me like an ant colony but I’m doing exactly what makes me feel accomplished, talented, and most of all, happy. I’d be doing something that other people would use- I’d be useful. I’d be dressed professionally, and I’d feel great about my appearance, boosted by my self confidence and self esteem. I would be somebody in my field. I would be respected. I would be successful, and living comfortably in my quaint apartment, furnished with the bare necessities but in an elegant and minimalistic way because I love minimalistic. My cupboards would be full of ingredients for a delicious home cooked meal, sometimes, even after a tiring day at work. Because I treasure my health and I treasure my income- ordering out or going out will only be reserved for weekends or special occasions. I would look at my calendar and remind myself that my volleyball tournament is coming up soon. I would be excited.

Once I have settled down for the night with a small glass of wine, I would unwind on my little couch and watch whatever’s on. Then maybe, I’d pull out my phone and text him. Want to come over? I’d ask. A little personal company would be the perfect way to unwind. He’d come, of course, giving me that handsome sneer of his, and crash on the couch with me. He’d ask me how my day was and I’d ask him how his was. I’d tell him about my future plans for a little trip with my friends. And he’d ask if he was invited.

We would decide to watch a funny movie- or if I was feeling tired, a chick flick for me to fall asleep to- and when it would be over, it would be midnight. He’d get up and move over to me and we’d hug, before he decides to leave for the night. Thanks for coming, I’d say to him, honestly. He would linger a little as if wanting to say something but I start for the door. He would follow and say Of course.

And then he’d be off. I close the door and lock it, and put my wine glass into the sink. I will wash the dishes tomorrow morning before work. I turn off the kitchen lights and retreat into my single bedroom for a new day.

Why People Fall Out of Love

It happens. The extreme butterflies that you feel when you begin a new relationship, a new bond forging. The way your heart quickens at the sight and even hearing their name. They way they’re the first and last thing on your mind when you wake up and go to sleep every day. You can’t stop thinking about them, literally. Everything you do reminds you of them, and how you wish they were with you.

The relationship ensues. Happiness ensues. But to what ends? Fights start to occur. Differences start to appear. Values start to become clear, and this relationship, where you once thought is going to last forever, breaks apart into little pieces because one side just can’t handle it anymore.

A common explanation is “My feelings aren’t as strong anymore.”

Why? Why do feelings have to be such fleeting things? Nobody means to hurt anyone yet, it happens. Why is the heart such a fickle thing? How on earth can we claim that we love someone then? Why do feelings grow stronger or grow weaker? Is there a way to manipulate someone’s feelings so that they never stop loving you? How is that normal, how is that natural? Everyone talks about ‘the game’. But playing the game only has one purpose: to string the person out until they cave without letting them know exactly how strong you feel about them. Why must we do this to ourselves? Why do we play this damn game?

We crave something new. Fresh experiences. New feelings. It’s in our nature to love. But it’s also in our nature to keep finding someone else once we become comfortable. And there’s the rub- they just became too comfortable with you. There’s no more excitement for them, no thrill of the chase, just stability. And what’s a relationship without chaos, without drama? So they fall out of love. Slowly, unknowingly.. until it hits you. Both.

How Alcohol Poisoning Affected Me.

I hate binge drinkers. I also despise those who drink their sorrows and woes away. I hate those who use alcohol as an escape, to numb their pain the easy way. I hate those who repeatedly go through this cycle of drinking and puking and then again.

Last night, I was all of these. I binge-drinked. I drowned away my emotional pain of my fresh break up. I took 8 shots of straight vodka within a couple hours. The result? I have never felt more useless, emotional, depressed, worthless and stupid in my life. No body could make me feel better. I caused everyone I care about trouble, including and especially my parents who woke up at 5 in the morning and rushed to the hospital where I was taken after nonstop vomiting in my friend’s basement. Them and my friends stayed until the morning when I finally started to regain my consciousness and realized I was in the hospital with an IV drip to my wrist. They told me I had been vomiting all night long and I was dry heaving. I was shaking and crying and nauseated. I was the epitome of a real mess.

I had a severe case of alcohol poisoning. Even now, I reek of it. Even when I’m breathing through my nose, there’s a smell of alcohol. My stomach is empty and feels like it needs to retch again. I can barely walk on my own and I feel so god damn shitty. Not just physically. I was actually on the brink of fatal damage. Had I not been rushed to the hospital who knows, I would have been dead.

And now, I’m wallowing in my own mistake at home. I also can’t believe how incredibly stupid I’ve been. How did 1 guy turn me upside down? Why do I never learn from my mistakes? Why am I letting him control my life? I want to be someone better. I want to be someone. Someone who actually makes an effort with their life and not constantly complaining about how bad it is. I do it so often. I hate doing it so often. But this is a new low for me. I have never felt this shitty in my entire life. And as strong as I’m trying to be, it doesn’t seem to be working in my mind. I have to verbalize my thoughts, make them heard, before I can attempt to hold back tears. God I’m such a bad daughter. There is no words that can amount to how grateful I feel to my parents. And all I’ve been doing was rebelling them, trying to make them see I’m a strong person. Strong person my ass. I took them for granted. And I never want to take them for granted again.

There is still so much alcohol flowing through me. It’s not close to being done in my system. And I feel sick to the bone knowing that. All the trouble I’ve caused to my friends and family was not worth it one bit. Being poisoned is definitely something I would never want to happen in my life again, or wish for anyone. Being blacked out drunk and puking is one of the worst things I’ve ever done. My hands are tingling. My stomach wants to flip. My head’s spinning. And I need to do well in my last term of school. How the hell is that going to happen, I don’t even know.

If there’s one thing that alcohol poisoning taught me, it’s that at the end of the day, your life keeps going. You can’t simply just stop and wish it would disappear all in one moment. What you do to your body you will haunt you. Your body will haunt you.

And never, ever, take your parents for granted. Because if there’s one real love in this damn world, it’s the love of your parents.

How to get over him.

It’s like forcing to throw up something you ate days ago. It’s like trying to hold your breath in your bathtub and hoping you wouldn’t have the reaction to gasp for air. It’s suppressing every single memory of him whenever your mind wanders back to it and you stop yourself with a pinch or something else to keep your mind away. It’s telling yourself it will never ever be good again, and you will never hold him the same way again and feel his lingering hand disappear forever. The love you have for him needs to go needs to hide and never resurface again. You have to do something that doesn’t remind you of him, doesn’t  remind you why you went back to him in a heartbeat. Everything reminds you of him. What can you do? Every breath hurts every heart beat hurts as if someone was clenching their fist around it and squeezing it with all their might. You never thought this would happen again. But it did. You’re a mess. But you have to go on. How do you go on like this. How do you accept the fact he’s really really gone from your life. How do you accept that love you’ve suppressed and resurface only to kill it completely is the love you will never feel for a person again? How can you get over someone who never loved as deeply as you, how can you have been with someone who never knew that you were capable of doing so?  How do you stop this. Make it stop. It’s crushing you. The heaviest weight. It’s not even a weight anymore. It’s your own body sinking into itself twisting and writhing until you’re a pile of nothing. It may have not been all for nothing but your love was all for nothing.

Secrets to Tell

Have you ever had something you wanted to tell someone but also know you should keep as a secret instead? It could be personal, it could be someone else’s secret (but not so-secret, let’s be real). And all you hope for is for someone to know your secret without actually asking you outright about it. Sometimes it happens, and sometimes it makes you feel great. Sometimes, it backfires.

So the person actually knew what was wrong with you- or at least, could tell what was wrong. And you though crap, my secret is blown- but is it? Is it actually a secret though, or should this actually be something people should know? Last night, out of the blue, my boyfriend asked if I needed to talk to him about something. And magically enough, that same day I had posted my 3am rant (see last post). He knows I have this ridiculous blog but he also said he wouldn’t actively seek it out again. Which made me wonder if he was telling the truth, not that I care if he reads or not. My rant basically explained how I felt a little left out when he was with his friends and how I just sometimes don’t know how and why I’m okay with being secondary with the things in his life. Ironically too he said he hoped I didn’t feel secondary but the fact is that I am- which he also seemed to have confirmed and yes, it’s still okay with me. It’s just when I think about it sometimes, especially at this time of year, I basically see him as much as I would during the school year when I would be back in the land of nowhere. And I also talk to him as much as I would during the school year, or as much as I would as an ordinary, unappealing friend.

I know he’s not a big talker through text. But my biggest secret I don’t want to tell him is I feel like the only time he would pay attention to me is before and during sex. And by attention I mean actually doing things a boyfriend would normally do. Once sex is over, attention drops to the unappealing friend zone.

Yeah I’m probably overthinking it and yeah I’m probably being a huge drama queen about it but whatever. If i didn’t even care about this relationship I wouldn’t even care about this. This can’t be something I can say to him, because a part of me also knows it’s not true- but my feelings are real. It’s all about feelings vs reality. And even though one may not be real, it sure feels real to me.