With her

I cant get over how it breaks my heart that even after years of trying to forget you…

My knees still crumble at the sight of you with her…


When he asked me for advice

I’m that friend who’s gonna tell you to chase the girl. I’m that friend who’s gonna tell you to hold on to her as much as you can. Trust me, it’s gonna be worth it. She’s gonna be worth all your patience and frustrations..

Trust me, exactly as much as I never trusted you.

Everything you’re doing right now is gonna win her over.And you’re gonna wake up to her smile and you’ll forget the beauty of the sunrise you saw with me. You’re gonna look back at your pain, and know that every hand hold after is a band aid to every harsh word she let out whenever she doubted you. Every hand hold is gonna feel like victory. And you’ll find your special hand hold. It’s gonna be different from ours. And I promise…it’s gonna be better.

The Broken.

People with broken hearts break things. They break of gin..or anything of everything that breaks into fragments.

I guess Im different.

I dont break things.

I break myself.

I run as fast as I can until the muscles in my legs tangle up and force me to stop. But I wont. Ill keep running.

I turn the music up so high my eardrums will go crazy like wildfire rushing through my body until it impairs my brain. It is then I can no longer think. I can no longer worry.

I write..pour out every pint of my blood into pen and paper. I will break every joint, every phalanges, and every vein that my hand used to hold hearts and trust.

I cry til my eyeballs drown from the tears. And I will let my soul drown no matter the wreckage.

I drink…letting the alcohol infiltrate my body even if it leaves my liver gasping. And I smoke til my lungs scream for fresh air.

Then when my system can no longer take it, I will leave the memory of those who screwed me over down in the toilet or in surgery or wherever hell I end up in.

And still will I have the audacity to screw up even more.

Call it reckless but to me it is living and learning.

To those who just want to cry.

If words could kill, I’d be dead by now. But reality itself is already lethal so why hide behind lies when medicines don’t cure and smiles just fail?

Why is to cry so hard to do when pain has already swallowed up our self-esteem like icy flames from hell through heaven. Why is to laugh so hard to fake when even the lovely chimes so easily turn into the deafening silence of nothingness?

Why is to be hurt so hard to accept when we know humans are programmed to hurt others?

Why love when the leap of faith is just gonna break your bones til you have nothing left to keep you standing?

Why am I even writing this when I know silents words, forever unsaid cannot change the hell I’m living in right now?

Dear reader, why do we make life harder and messier?

If we love someone, we should tell them. We only get numbered days to walk upon this earth. I think we would be happier if we didn’t regret not telling them.

If we hate someone, it’s not their lose. You are the star of your life, not the bullies and heart breakers. Live and let go. We should just smile not for them but for ourselves. It’s not a life worth living if it’s a life full of anger and remorse.

If obstacles get the best of us, well, no famous person has ever made it to the top without stumbling a little on the way. It’s okay to worry a little, but remember that when the climb gets steeper, it only means you’re success is waiting at a higher peak. You can’t give up now.

Dear reader, the good days are waiting for you to smile with the sunrise so go… laugh and seize the day.

Come and Go.

When love came, love came like a wasn’t the perfect weather yet I never missed the chance to dance in the rain.

When love talked to spoke like a dangling chime playing with the wind, like 6-strings in perfect collision with my fingers. It was all just right.

When love looked me in the stared with pure charm, as if love saw all the beauty that never existed within me. It felt like looking through a telescope while the universe send out a trillion shooting stars you never thought existed. They are beautiful but they are dead, too.

When love carried me in his arms, love brought me to places.

But like a flat tire, love just stopped.

There were so many places I wanted to go to, so many adventures I wanted to make, so many photographs I wanted to take, so many memories I wanted to create.

But love stayed away because love had other plans. Love wanted to be in a different time zone. Love wanted to pack a suitcase and walk away to where the sunrise was my sunset. Love wanted to get on a plane that would fly a hundred miles away from where I stood. Love wanted other things. And I wasn’t one of them.

When love went away, love went away like a bonfire..slowly losing parts of the inside until they turned to ashes.

When love left, love didn’t wave goodbye because love wanted to save that goodbye for the future years where we could bump into each other at a random cafe with so many stories to tell about how opposite our lives went. Love wanted that coincidence to be the time to say goodbye because it would be a sweet farewell. Love didn’t want to remember my blood-stained cheeks and flooded eyes and furrowed eyebrows. Instead, love wanted to remember nothing.

And so love went away…just like that. Just like snow flakes in your hand, love melted away…slowly and then all at once.

To all the broken lovers.

She stared at him with the stare that could trigger a million feelings all at once. She stared into his eyes..the eyes that held her entire universe.
She stared and she drifted away. She drifted way too much as if he was her gravity. She stared too much at the light as if his entire being burned out her eyes with tormenting guilt and graceful sin.
She watched him dance with some pretty girl at prom while she sat alone in the back table dreaming about what it would feel like if it was her hand he was holding or her eyes he got lost in or her hip he was touching.
She watched him walk with the pretty girl through the corridors, hold her close and bring her flowers.
Even on Valentine’s Day, she watched him serenade the pretty girl in beautiful harmonies and sweet rhythms that made everyone say “awww”
Everyday she cried. Every fuckin day it hurt. It felt like slipping through thin ice and just falling into nothing but an abyss of darkness while the water burned like ice. It was nothing but pain..the type of pain that doesnt just vanish with a joke or a stroll through the park. It was the type of pain that had to be felt.
He broke every single day that a person can be broken. But it wasnt his fault. Nor should we put the blame in the stars.
Dear reader, her love for him was a noble love.
One day, she stopped staring…not because she didnt love him anymore but because she realized that a miracle wouldnt just appear on her doorstep. Because if she really did love him then she she would show him in every little way possible…doing nothing about it isnt love.
Love felt isnt really love unless its shown.
And even if his feelings doesnt reciprocate hers, its okay because at least she’ll know that she did something about it rather than to idly sit by and complain to the universe why she never got her sweet kiss on top of the Eifel Tower.
Dear reader, I know its frustrating when things dont work out between people but I believe that our duty is on the love that we give rather than to the person. Its our job to give the best of what love is and show it to the person we love even if the world disappoints us with failures and rejections. At least we can go to bed at night knowing that we did one great hell of a job taking a leap of fate into the edge of the cliff. Thats better than staying up late rewinding the whole scene frame by frame in our head regretting the things we couldve done but didnt do.
So despite the pounding of her heart and the twisting of her stomach and the screaming of her lungs…she walked up to him with hair all messed up and a face stained red..she smiled and said “Hi 🙂 “

The time I screwed my chances

Think back.. Recall all those times you really wanted to thank someone or slap someone in the face or probably kiss someone. Look back and remember the reasons you did’nt do all those things. Is it because of fear? Or hatred? Or remorse?

Dear reader, what is harder? To live a lie or regret the future. Maybe stupidity is contagious. We are living in a world of bread with no butter, information but no analysis, speed but no accuracy, happiness but no sense of truth.

If I had the chance to go back and time and change my mind on a certain decision, I would go back to December and hold his hand close to my heart. But if I did that, then today I would be living in sin.. I would be stuck in my own false Utopia- where I always get what I want but never grow up.

Time is so cruel..but with cruelty can we only see how much life wants us to learn. Though we often blame the universe, we can never get to our happiness if all our lives, everything has been handed to us from a silver platter. Only can we see through the twisted tricks of life if we stop chasing time and start letting go of our grips on the clock’s hands and find our own cloud nine..maybe fly so high that we may even conquer space. But at some point we would have to fall. And  by the time our body collides with the ground at terminal velocity comes the regret of ever letting go on the handle bars of control.

Soon enough we would live so cautiously that we are like zombies- mindless but mostly lifeless. But dear reader, it is in our our blood to seek for absolute bliss. And definitely can we naver reach felicity if we just sit by the sidelines. A sword must be burned and hammered and flattened before it becomes a strong companion for any battle. A man who only stands by the bus stop can never go anywhere in life if he only stands and wait. One must risk himself before arriving at anything.

Dear reader, I believe that everything happens for a reason. And sometimes the reasons are not always what we expect them to be. We just often have to keep trying and growing up. So that one day, we may smile to the universe, fallen but brave..scarred but beautiful…broken but worth it. 

You crashed right after I fell.

You left me a note with three words.

Look at me.

On the piano where we first played together in an endless duet and where we sang songs of glee and wonder, I saw the pink paper all folded up into a paper crane..and inside was your penmanship- not so clear but still manageable for eyes that has seen nothing but tears lately.

It was my birthday- the same day your plane left for London. And in the paper, you wrote the words “I love you.”

Please, listen to me. Don’t just stare and roll your eyes.

For 2 years, we were the best of friends and you left like nothing mattered. As if the days we spent making distorted sand castles by the beach didn’t matter…or as if the days when we separated ourselves from the world as if creating walls and barriers from all the negativity of the cosmos and start our own  galaxy of oddity just went off with the wind. We used to talk as if we lived down the rabbit hole- where everything was for US. You and me..just the two of us- best friends.

Why are you frowning?

Of course I never thought of you loving me as more than just friends. And I never had the time to think about it. You left so quick and the note was so late and everything happened in the wrong time. But I never got to say what I felt and I guess now It doesn’t matter anymore. Not after the crash. Not after you died.

In my head is the image of you- the way you refused to look at me when you say something nice about my hair or my dress or my eyes(you always say something nice about me)..or the way you look up the stars at night and pretend you’re ignoring everything I said because you love seeing me frustrated in a goofy manner..the way you frown when you get confused then smile when I smile at you.

I never thought I would be sitting alone in my room still looking at ink upon a piece of paper containing unspoken words. I’m alone now and the rabbit hole I guess is now a graveyard filled with your presence- our memories…our tragedy.

It’s 3:28 a.m. And the dullness of missing you is no longer dull.

I thought I stopped thinking about you. But I realized I was just used to the dull ache of hearing your voice over and over again..playing back our first and last dance..remembering our first and last kiss.. crying over our first and last goodbye. And the list of first and lasts go on..and my river of tears turns into an ocean of incurable misery. 

Let me lie to you again. 

I’m fine.

Love, that can only be a lie when I’m not alive in your dreams and in your heart. Come back, please. 

I’m happy for both of you.

I spent my sweet sixteen crying over both of you. Although it hurts, as if putting salt on a freshly cut wound, pain was my antidote. Because at least I know, everything was real. My first love was real. And every jolt of unexplained feelings I felt with you was real. It was all real…for me but not you.

I’m tired of lying

Of course not. If lying to you meant your happiness, then it would be my pleasure and affliction to lie until hell freezes over. 

But for once, let me tell you the truth. One that never became a lie nor a broken promise. 

I love you. 

With every ounce of my being, I know in my mind, I’m still inlove with our tragedy.

With the universe- the stars, the moon, the sun and every heavenly body staring upon me right now as my witness… I love you. 


It’s February 12, I’m sixteen now, but I’m not stronger, or wiser, not even more mature. But who cares? I love you and that is all.