Stories

Only I know my whole story. You can only gather bits and pieces I chose to or others decided to tell you. Each version has it's own different side. That's why they are stories. And you, can only dwell, if you are too bored, in what others told you and have an impression or judgement on me. But do I care?

Brigther Than Sunshine

"What a feeling in my soul
Love burns brighter than sunshine,
Brighter than sunshine.
Let the rain fall, I don't care
I'm yours, and suddenly you're mine
Suddenly, you're mine;
And it's brighter than sunshine..."

And so while it keeps playing over and over again, I have all these images of you and me. Me and you. You. Me. Us. Together. Happy us. Happily together. But very soon they turn blur and vanish. And all I can see is my fingers typing and the white screen with black tiny words appearing on the screen. While I type. Each. And. Every. Single. L.E.T.T.E.R. Fills the screen.

I'm unhappy. It took me about 1 minute to type, delete, type, delete again and type once again the word "unhappy". It sounds so harsh, almost  unreal. Well, it can't be real. How can I be UNHAPPY? It's such strong word... Doesn't really match me at all. But it's the truth. I AM UNHAPPY. About what? About now. My life. Me. I never used to be unhappy. All I can recall is I used to be upset because of something. Some incidents. Some people. Some situations. Some versions of me. But never unhappy. But is the word upset stronger, a lot more closer to the state of complete unhappiness? Or the word unhappy? Definitely the latter. Just typing the word makes me unhappier than ever. It's like pressing, pushing something down under the sands. Until you can't see it no more. And just the mess around it, over your fingers. Sands. And still, you'll pat the surface, really making it difficult for the thing to come out again.

Do I love him still? Yes. Why not? After all, he's the only man I ever said yes to when he proposed. ("Maybe it's because no one else ever did, that's why". Of course not. It's because he's the only man I wanted to be with. The rest never really mattered. Never really woke the fire in me to be tamed and be home with.). But thinking how things are constantly so complicated and annoying between us makes me really sick. Makes me want to run away. Run. Run. Run. Fly. But I can't. Because we have a daughter together. Forever. And I can't just disappear. Like I used to. Like I enjoyed. Like the old me. The old me. The old me. The old me. Dead now. Now this is me. This new me. This strange me. This one. This.

Part of me wants to be in his arms. Run to him. Jump to him. Kiss him. Lick. Bite. Suck his lips. Play with his tongue with mine. Grab his hair. Pull it while kissing his face. Over and over. Over and over. Again. Here. There. Ears. Neck. Jaw. Lips. Eyes. Face. Neck Again. Nose. Jaw. Lips. Over. And. Over. Again.

But part of me is tired. So tired. So weak. So fed up. And I guess he is tired too. Fed up too. Very extremely fed up.

If time could go back, I would.... I would what? I would... What? I don't know. You don't know? You don't know because you are afraid to say it. To admit it. Perhaps.

If time could go back, I would think more carefully. About what? About things. What things? Things. You mean about you and him, not things. Yes. Just so you both wouldn't get married so early, and get pregnant so early, argue so early. Just so you both could still act like kids together without worries, both fighting for your own respective dreams. Correct? Yes. But I wouldn't really change a thing. Would you not? Really? Seriously? Yes. Why? Because I love my daughter. She's happiness. She's everything. Are you saying this just to make you feel better? Pretending you really love her? No! of course I REALLY LOVE HER! No more than your husband though. Otherwise you wouldn't be unhappy.

I love her! As equally as I love my husband. But I care more for her because she's my daughter, she's little, she's my princess. She came from me. She's a bright little sweetheart. My sweetheart forever. Forever. And ever.

And so, in a very quiet way, I let him go. And so have I.

Tell Me

I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss. Tremendously. Desperately. Hopelessly.
I love him. I love him. I love him. Loudly. Crazily. Endlessly.
My brain tells me to stop.
My heart urges me to go see him even if I get rejected again.
My brain tells me to give up. Let go. Start everything from scratch.
My heart tells me there's still hope, there's still love.
What do I tell myself then?
What does he tell me then?

Back To Black

Nothing goes smooth.
Nothing ever does.
Am I too negative?
Too unpleasing to everyone?
I'm starting to think
I shouldn't be here in the first place.

Call me a pessimist. Because that's all I am for today. Tomorrow. And so on.

You = Ungrateful

From now on I will unplug my "CARE-ABOUT-YOU-AND WORRIED-AS-HELL-WHEN-YOU-ARE-UNWELL" cable. So I will not feel any longer. So I will be able to sleep at night and rest properly BECAUSE I ALSO HAVE A FRIGGING JOB to go to in the MORNING!

Keep Quiet

People say a lot. A lot of words live with us. Touch us. Pass us by, every single day. And we linger on them, breathing the truth out of them. Sometimes we get it, sometimes we don't. And at others, we are simply not sure what they truly mean, how truthful they are. I can't remember where and when I saw: "silence is the most honest and truthful word". And I couldn't agree more. We tend to say so many already meaningless words to keep uncomfortable quietness away, to divert how we really feel, what we want to say but too scared and coward to say them, and we end up using words to beautify what's unbearable, to resurrect what's already dead, to delude those around us, even ourselves. Sometimes, those who are brave enough to accept what they truly feel, think and live by, those who respect you enough not to tell you any more rosy words, those who would rather not talk to you, not say a word to you, not to pronounce another deceiving spell, are those who tell you the truth, the most honest and sincere words.Words lie. But silence don't.

Today I Am

 Happy. In love. Content.

Au Revoir

It hurts when he says he knows me better than anyone. Because he doesn't. And it upsets me deeply because he still thinks he does. Perhaps he used to. Those days when he would pay extra attention to our relationship. But as time goes by, things get less taken care of, less important, less cherished. Things get easier. So easy, they no longer need you to take that extra step to find them, nurture them and, perhaps, keep them close, keep them deep in your heart.

To Inspire & To Be Inspired

A silly question has been jumping up and down in my head for almost the entire morning. Do I inspire him? In which consequently links to more questions like: is he inspired by me? am I his inspirations? have I ever inspired him? if so, do I still inspire him? All these are questions whether or not I inspire him or not, evolving around me me and me. How important it is for me to know I inspire him at all times! But does he inspire me? Am I inspired by him? Has he ever inspired me? Am I still inspired by him? Is he my inspiration? These also emerged to say a hi to my already busy, questioning mind. Conclusion: do I inspire him? He said yes. But I don't know. Does he inspire me? Yes. In every possible way yes. After all, it's not as a silly question as it is.

Miss Savaltore

There I was. Standing nearby my car, looking at their backs going further and further away. Their hands holding each other', melting like a sweet pot of caramel on vanilla ice-cream. And I was just there, being left once again without ever being explained, properly, accordingly. Not even with the chance to ask why, how, and when did they start their own little paradise without me. And so I got back to my car, looked in the mirror. And sighed.

It's always been like this. People leave me without telling me why, or even if they do, they use really articulate and polite excuses. And so I end up accepting those words without really talking back or showing a slight sense of doubt.

He brought me to a nice cafe for breakfast that day and while I'm still tasting my pancakes he said "Amelia, I think it's about time we progress to another stage". I immediately thought of wedding bells, wedding gown, wedding this, wedding that... It's quite fair since we had been together for almost 4 years and 59 days. "Oh, I think...", and before I could finished, he finished me with "It's best we go from bf/gf to best friends". I was confused and almost choked myself with the dry pancake which tasted like wasabi flaboured raw chicken, but I don't even know what that means... And he went on "It will be much healthier for both of us. I will still care about you, and you will obviously still care about me. But the thing is, we no longer need to care so much about each other, just so we can live our lives freely and a lot happier, Don't you think?". I finally had the chance to say something "But I thought we were quite ok, I mean...". "Yes, we were quite ok. But it will be even better if we just PROGRESS to a deeper level of friendship! We love each other so much, it's inevitable for us to achieve a marvellous friendship ever Amelia!". And, before I could try to say something, he added "Thank you Amelia for making this come true! I've always wanted to have a best friend like you! So, call me whenever you need anything, but you know how busy I am, so be patient if I can't answer your call ok?". And so he thanked me for the breakfast and left as quick as possible to the door. 15 minutes later there I was next to my car staring at his back, holding hands with someone else. So now I'm his best friend.

I really don't know why progressing to him means turning me to his best friend while he progressed with someone else. Why couldn't he just tell me he wanted to break up with me so he could be with her officially without having to lie to me ever again about being busy at work, getting stuck at the beach 'cause too crowded of life guards, traffic jam in the mountains, his brother cut his own finger because he was bored and was an introvert (aren't all introverts unaware of how boring they can be?), etc etc etc. Oh and the funny thing is, he doesn't even have a brother. Sigh...

Am I that stupid to be fooled and fooled and fooled again? I guess I am...

He Called And She Answered

The phone rings. Is ringing. Pick it up. Pick it right now. Hello. Hi. It's me. I know. Yea. Mm. How have you been. Good. This is awkward. Why. I don't know what I'm doing. You never knew. I guess I missed you. Mm. What's that "mm" supposed to mean. You know. I want to see you. Why. Because I miss you and I can't stop thinking about you. I can't. I know you're married, but. I can't because if I see you, I'm afraid I will follow you to wherever you go.