When can I let go?

Lately, I’ve been wondering what it takes to let you go 

All of the memories we had together still burn in the back of my mind. Whenever someone starts to get close, I start seeing smoke, and when they hide behind that smoke, I trick myself into believing that I found another you. But the thing with smoke is that it will eventually dissipate into the air. And when that smoke clears, will I be able to finally see them for who they are or will I see another facade I’ve created?

Lately, I’ve been wondering why I desperately need to find someone like you

No one I’ve met so far has gotten close to what it felt like to be with you. And the saddest part is, I don’t even get to call you a past love or get to call this a breakup. What we had, was that real or was it just another figment of my imaginations?

Because I remember bumping shoulders while we walk along side each other in the middle of the night. I remember the touch of your fingers against my skin; the way your body encapsulates me whenever you hug me. I remember studying and stressing out about school work in a coffee shop and how you would squat and lean your shoulder on the edge of the table and just stare at me. I remember your habit of parting your lips before breaking into a soft smile. I remember the weight of your head on my lap and the feeling of your hair in my fingers as I play with it. I remember when you told me you love me.

Lately, I’ve been wondering why I can’t forget you

Everything was not as peachy as I made it sound. I remember those moments when you screamed at me, dragged me forcefully by the wrist, and threatened to hit me. I remember all the constant put-downs you said out of “love”, and I remember the way you would tell me it’s my fault and that I made you do it.

I remember.

I remember the way your lips touched hers and how you were engulfed in one another’s love. I remember watching you slip out of my hands and how desperately I tried to change at every chance I get in order to make you stay. I remember how I constantly felt like I was never going to be good enough for you, and how even then, I still wanted to do anything I can to make you proud of me, to make you love me, and to just make you appreciate my efforts. But it was never enough. As long as I’m not her, I will never be good enough. She could have a thousands more flaws than me, but she will always be perfect and enough to you.

So I wonder why I can’t forget you and the pain you put me through

I already accepted that you will never be mine. I’ve already let that go. I’ve already let you go a long time ago. And I’ve been ready to let go of everything. But it seems like you still have a hold on my heart even if it’s just a little piece of it. It seems like I will never get that piece back, and it scares me to imagine that maybe that was the piece I need to complete myself. That without it, I will always be empty.

I’m so scared.

So scared to think that no one will ever truly love me enough to want me

 

 

someone like you

i wish i had someone like you

someone to lie on the ground with in a candle-lit room at 11 pm at night

as we lie there, we can point at the ceiling, pretending that it’s the night sky. we can watch the shadows of our hands dance while we laugh at each other. and when it becomes silent, we can look into each other eyes and press our forehead against one another. we can just enjoy the moment like this is our night to shine. and we can even fall asleep peacefully in each other’s arms, knowing that we are being embraced with love and comfort

i wish i had someone like you

 

If I had drown that day…

Everything comes to an end at one point or another.

I wonder if I had drown that day what would today been like? Who would miss me?

For those who wanted me to be happy, whose happiness do you really want: yours or mine? If the happiness is mine, why didn’t you ever ask me if I am alright? Why did you just assume that I’m always going to be fine? Why do you believe and buy into that lie even when I told you time after time all I want is to die?

If I had drown that day would my body sink or would I float away?

I don’t know the science behind it, but there’s a beauty in death. There’s a beauty in the moment before death that is so hard to explain and to understand. You realize all the good, the bad, the grateful, and the ungrateful moments of your life. They flash by, reminding you what it is like to still be alive. But then comes the peace, the acceptance, and the moment where you just let go of everything and let it happen. You realize you no longer have to deal with it all. That you are finally free from the bondage that you entrapped yourself with.

If I had drown that day maybe I would have found a sense of peace.

But if I had drown that day, would my only regret be that I didn’t drown myself sooner? Or would my only regret be that I couldn’t love myself the way I loved others even at the very end.

 


 

Reading this was really hard.

It’s something I wrote the day after Valentine’s Day when I suddenly remembered the day I wanted to drown myself at the beach. I was with someone that I secretly loved, and his presence stopped me. For the longest time, I believed he was the reason why I didn’t decide to off myself that day. He became the reason why I wanted to continue living. Little did I know, putting my self-worth and my will to live in others will only result in heartbreak and further depression.

Because when you put your self-worth and your will to live in the hands of others, it won’t make you feel better in the long run. Because when they’re gone, you’re back to square one again. And sometimes, when you’re unlucky, you’re even much further back on the path you started on. But in the end, no matter what you did or didn’t do, you have to learn from your past experience. And trust me, I did.

But whenever I feel down I just start to think what if I had drown that day…would I be happier? I guess the answer is

I don’t know.

I don’t know what would have happened, and I’m glad I’m in a place right now where I can confidently say,

I don’t care if I would have been happier.

I don’t care about the hypotheticals, because right now I can see all the people I have in my life. I can see all the possibilities that have yet to come. I can see my own happiness in the palms of my hand. And it’s safe to say that if I had drown that day…

I will never live to see how happy I am today.

What “love” feels like

Love feels wonderful. It makes you feel like you deserve all the good things in your life despite of your shortcomings. Loves feels inviting. It makes you vulnerable to the people around you that cares and allows you to trust again. Love is limitless. With it, there’s nothing you can’t do. There’s no sky you can’t reach. There’s no dreams that’s too big.

But a love like that has never existed for me.

I thought it did, but most of it was just me being delusional. Most of it was just me hoping that I might mean the world to someone. Or maybe most of it was just my unfortunate luck with those who took advantage of my feelings and my love.

I wish I had at least my family there for me, but truth be told, they were the first to hurt me on so many different levels. And when I tried to find refuge in other people, I was faced with the same pain again. People are cruel. Sometimes people are just a reproduction of what their family have done to them and what their family is like.

Some people don’t understand what a blessing it is to be loved, to be cared for, to matter to someone- especially someone that matters to you. Some people don’t understand how hard it is to be the perfect child and to be happy all the time because you know if you aren’t, it’ll break your family’s heart. So even in the darkest time, you can’t even go to them for comfort. You rather keep up the facade because the pain is easier to bare with than the pain of watching those you love cry.

And I hate that about me sometimes. That I want to run to them crying, but I don’t due to fact that I’m scared. I’m scared because I know if they don’t give me the support I want and need, I will only end up distancing myself from them even more. I’m scared that I’ll have to keep up the act of being a strong person. But if there’s anything I learned in life so far, it’s that even the strongest thing breaks. It’s just a matter of when.

And I’m breaking. My depression erodes away my sanity and my mind, one sadness at a time. And in moments like this, I can’t help but ask myself, “Why doesn’t anyone love me?” I can’t help but scream at the world for making me go through so much. For making me wonder what I ever did to deserve all of this pain.

It just overtakes me. Like a blackhole, sucking me into the void that exists at the bottom of my heart. It’s like I’m trying to walk forward, but I end up cutting off my own leg off cause gods know why? Maybe because I’m a masochistic bitch that just wants to see myself suffer as I try to escape the inevitable.

Maybe it’s because I’m scared that if I move on, there will be nothing waiting for me on the other side. That even then, I will still be empty and still be unloved, and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that. I’m scared that even in my own story, I will continue being the side-character that no one ever pays attention to- that ends up being the bad person every time because I’m misunderstood.

And I’m so tired of being misunderstood by those I care about and love. I’m so tired of being abused by people and having them tell me that it was “love”, that they did it because it was “my fault”, that I made them to do it, that it’s because I wasn’t good enough for make them treat me otherwise.

I’m tired of shouldering other people’s pain and carrying it as my own. I’m just so tired of everything that I cut myself off from my emotions so I could be empty.

I’m tired of having to feel empty in order to not feel pain.

I just want this to stop, but I don’t know how.

My brother once told me that if you hit your bruises over and over again, it will just become numb. And I guess without realizing, I started doing that too. I keep hitting all the bruises people had given me, hoping that maybe one day, I can numb out the pain.

But I wonder, where did their inflicted pain end and where did my self-inflicted pain begin?

Why I cut you out

If there’s anything to know about me, it is that I am too understanding and too forgiving. Often time, I go out of my way to make the people I care about feel special, loved, cared for, appreciated, etc. However, not only do these people hurt me time after time, they like to uphold double standards and label them as signs of affection.

Now, I know I’m not a perfect person. In fact, I’m far from perfect. There are many instances where I can be a hypocrite, and I’m not proud of it. It upsets me to know that I am acting and being a certain type of person I don’t exactly like or aspire to be. And I do beat myself up more than I should for every single mistake I make.

With that said, let me get to the main point. The reason why I cut you off is the simple fact that I have given you so many chances, yet you do not change. I want to move forward with my life, and I want to grow with the people around me. I don’t want to be held back or feel like I am holding someone back. It’s not particularly a nice feeling if you ask me. And to be blunt, you hold me back. Not only with your insecurities, but with your hatred towards yourself that you project onto everything you see.

Yes, it’s tiring. You say that you’re only being yourself, but I think you’re wrong. You’re not being yourself. You need to know that your insecurities are not actually you, but until you realize that, you will always make yourself act out based on your insecurities. And that itself is tiring. It’s tiring to see you go down the same destructive path over and over again only to have you say that it is something you cannot control. It’s tiring to be there for you when you do not show any appreciation for it. I am a busy person, and I’m putting my time aside for you because I care and because I love you. But if you aren’t grateful for that- if you take that for granted, then you can’t blame me when I say I’m fed up with it.

It wouldn’t bother me as much if you didn’t go around saying how great these other friends of yours are. I’m sure they are great, and I’m sure you let them know a lot of the times. But as a friend that has known you for awhile, it hurts. It hurts me to know that you talk to me only when you’re feeling depressed and/or suicidal. It hurts me to know that you only talk to me to complain about how other people have hurt you once again when you are actively putting your self-worth in them. It hurts me to know that if those two things don’t happen, I don’t exist.

And even I am there for you, I am unappreciated. Remember that time when you left me in the middle of the very serious conversation of you telling me that you were suicidal and you were going to carry out your plans? Yeah, that conversation- the one where you suddenly ghost on me. Imagine how I felt, how scared I was for your safety, how badly I wanted to make sure you were okay. Instead of telling me that you were gonna go or that you were going to be fine at least for the next hour or two, I had to find out through your snapchat story that your friends from college came to visit. I had to find out through snapchat that you captioned the footage “This is what true friendship is” or something along those lines.

Yes, I was happy you are okay. Yes, I was happy that your friends showed up and was there for you. But what about me? I was there for you for almost 4 hours straight, trying to be as supportive as I could have been. It felt like once they were there, you didn’t need me anymore. And it almost always felt like that. It’s either you come to me in those times or you don’t come to me at all. I’m sorry if it hurts you to know that I feel like I deserve a better friendship than that.

I’m also very sick of how I go out of my way to help you out of kindness and out of our long friendship, but you act like it’s a given. I’m not asking you to constantly remind me that you are grateful, but don’t you think it’s a bit insulting that you’re constantly saying how great these friends are when you barely ever tell me that? Or do you just assume that I knew? Because I’m here to tell you that obviously, I didn’t know.

You once asked me why people eventually leaves you. Maybe it’s time to look within yourself. Maybe it’s time to realize that believe it or not, you’re selfish and you hold a grudge against people. I think you can’t let things go because you don’t believe that justice has been upheld for you. But have you ever stop and wonder that maybe you’re the toxic one? And I’m not here shitting on you. I’ve been there. I have been the toxic one many times, and although I may not be proud of it, I embraced that fact because it reminds me that I can be flawed and that I can cause a lot of emotional damage to someone as well. I think if anything that’s just self-awareness. Knowing when you are at fault and owning up to it, instead of trying to find blame in others so you don’t have to take any personal responsibilities in working to change those bad and unhealthy behaviors.

Long story short, these things are not what drove me to cut you out of my life. What drove me is the lack of change and the lack of appreciation. Friendship is a two-way street and that can be said about any relationships. And yeah, I don’t think this friendship is a two-way street. And I’m sorry that this is going to hurt, but I rather be real about it than to make up some bullshit that we have grown apart.

Courage in the form of Silence (Trigger Warning)

I haven’t gotten too much into this subject, because I’m not gonna lie, it’s hard to talk about this. I was sexually assaulted by two of my male classmates in 8th grade while one of my friends watched and filmed me. Not only did she not help me, she showed a bunch of people that video of me being cornered, being groped, and having my dress ripped off on of my side.

I developed PTSD after that. I didn’t quite knew I had it despite the nightmares and heighten awareness around guys. It wasn’t until 9th grade where a boy cornered me in the music room, locked the door, and pressed his body against mine that I froze before bursting into tears. I went to a psychologist after the incident, and she told me it was PTSD.

It’s been hard dealing with PTSD, especially when my trigger is males. It used to be so bad that I couldn’t even shake a guys hand nor hug them. Overtime, my PTSD started to get better with the help of CBT. That didn’t last for long. On May 28, 2016, I was sexually assaulted and then raped repeatedly by my ex-boyfriend. The PTSD came back full-blown. My parents and some of friends weren’t the most supportive people either. They all blamed me, and they did so for every single sexual assault that have happened to me. By now, they just tell me, “If you get ‘sexually assaulted’ so many times, isn’t that your fault? You must be doing something that makes the guys want to do that. I don’t know if I can believe that you’re really the victim in this thing”

And now I get to my point. I didn’t realize what my ex did was rape until I attended my college’s orientation. After that, I joined one of the group therapies on campus where survivors come together and share their thoughts, feelings, and experience while supporting one another. I was nice to have people there that understood what it was like. Due to my schedule, I can’t attend this quarter, but something has been weighing on my mind.

March 3, 2017 – Friday Night

I got to the frat party with my friend early. We were the first one there. There were these two pledges that were on duty, meaning that they could not drink. Long story short, one of the pledge fed me a lot of alcohol. I threw up in the bathroom about 26 times in 30 minutes. After that I kept throwing up even more, but he kept insisting that I had threw up all the alcohol and that I should drink more now that he’s off duty.

I will admit I wanted to drink more even though I knew I shouldn’t, and him as well as the other guys pressuring me on did not help. I ended up drinking more and found out that my friend had left me to go off with some guy one hour into the party. I felt abandoned and upset, and instead of being mad at her, I decided to drink more to forget about it. Now, no matter how much I drank at this point, I threw it all up in the bathroom.

About 3 am or so, most people were leaving, and I didn’t want to be the only one there without a ride. I told that guy that I was gonna leave, but he insisting that he will come back to my dorm. He knew that my roommate was gone for the weekend, and he became so aggressive in his demeanor. His girl good friend called me an uber to send me home, but he tagged along while we walked there.

I was sober up pretty much at this point believe it or not. The elevated sense of awareness kicked in and my body had went into survival mode. I acted even more drunk as a way to draw attention to myself and to make sure the girls weren’t going to leave me behind with him. It worked pretty well until he became even more insistent. He got into an argument with his friend were he said “____, ____, come on now, we known each other since what? Highschool? Help a brother out”

I heard him loud and clear, and I remember her saying “____, you’re a great guy. I know you are. And I really want you to get this pledge. Don’t just risk it all because of one night okay?” and he said “But come on, _____. I’m just going to take care of her.” Luckily for me, she refused to let him. We attracted quite a lot of attention outside, and another group from the party walking to the frat house saw us and got involved.

This is the point where the guy got even more insistent on bringing me back to the frat house to ‘take care of me’. Now at this point, some of you might wonder why I assumed the worse of him. He was running his hands up and down my back this whole entire time. He constantly fed me alcohol and wouldn’t let me leave alone. It was clear that he wanted something out it. It got so bad that the other frat guys had to get involve and tell that guy to chill out. It was ugly.

March 4, 2017

I got back to my dorm after crashing at one of the girls’. I went to the ER shortly after feeling dreadfully ill. I ended up with alcohol poisoning, and my body went into an insulin shock. My guy friend that invited me to the party texted me asking if I was okay and what happened. I had just found out at this point from Facebook that he was the VP of the Frat.

A part of me didn’t want this pledge to lose his pledge. A part of me was scared that if I told my guy friend, he wouldn’t have believed me. So I decided to keep silence, yet again, like I always did.

April 5, 2017 – Now

I started getting nightmares again. I had trouble sleeping at night. Once a week, I at least get a nightmare of my ex raping me in my dreams and/or a dream of me bumping into the frat guy and him trying to confront me or talk to me. This has been going on since that night, and it’s becoming an emotional and physical toll. I saw that same frat guy two days ago on the Ring Road because this week was requirement week. He is now an active member.

I broke down in tears while I hid at Langston library after getting a pretty bad panic attack. I did, however, got the courage to see my guy friend that’s in the frat. When I did go talk to my guy friend, that frat guy was there and tried to approach me. Good thing, that guy backed off after seeing that my guy friend. Even then, I still feel so scared, especially when my guy friend invited me to their rush party this friday. He really wants me to come, but I’m scared I’ll bump into that frat guy and he’ll try to approach me. It’s sad to say that I don’t feel safe with this frat anymore.

I’ve always felt fearful on campus ever since that night too. I try not to mind it at all, because it wasn’t like I was sexually assaulted or anything. But it still scares me a lot because of what it reminded me and because of how it triggers my PTSD. But I’ve been trying to remind myself that even though I’ve been silent about it, I’m not weak or a cower. In my own way, I am still courageous for going on about my day the best that I can.

I think I’ve been silent for so long that it has also build me up to a stronger person that’s speaking out against such behaviors and such mindset. That’s why I think I might tell my guy friend what happened, because it’s not just about me, but about other girls. I would hate for other girls to go through what I had to gone through. Even if I might be overstepping my authorities here, I want my guy friend to know that such thing exists in his frat and that it should be really called to attention.

So in a surprising way, courage has been built and strengthen by my silence, and I’m grateful for that.

 

Unspoken Words May Lead to Regret

Lately, I spend too much time thinking about the past.

I think I’ve been so busy with school work and extracurriculars that everything is coming down on me at once. And as these things happen, I can’t help but think of you.

I miss the old times when you and I will hang out every other night and just talk. I miss being able to just talk. I miss sitting in a car with someone and talking to them about anything. I miss that deep yet spontaneous part of life, but let me be clear about one thing. I don’t miss you.

I just miss having someone like that to spend my day and night with. I think college is a bit different. Even back in high school, I took time to skip class, to go out at night, and to have fun. Now, I just stay in my dorm all the time. I know I have to put myself out there to meet people, but it seems like no one I’ve met so far is interested in going out or hanging out at night. Everyone seems to academically driven that it’s their top priorities.

With you at least, you put aside college work to hang out with me while I put aside high school work for you. It wasn’t the best thing to do academically, but we had so much fun. Now, I just miss being able to do that with people. A part of me is so scared that I’ll never find someone like that again in my life.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had told you that I liked you. It seems like unspoken words may lead to regret. It has never stopped bothering me, especially the fact that when I stopped talking to you, you and your girlfriend finally worked out. It’s like you no longer had another person by your side confusing your feelings. At the same time, if what we had made you questioned what you had with her, do you even love her as much as you claim?

I walked away so you would realize that the one you love and the one you want is her. I did it all for you even though it may have hurt you, yet you still look at me as this cruel person.  I did my best for the both of your guys’ happiness. Why do you call me selfish? I have been nothing but selfless. I let go when I wanted to hang on.

But a part of me regret not telling you my feelings sooner. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, but maybe I wouldn’t feel like everything could have been different. Now that you two are spend your life together like a happily ever after fairytale, I just feel like something is missing in my life.

I just dislike how it’s going to be 2 years soon, yet it still sits on the back of my mind