It Is Time to Bid GoodBye to You

Every single day for the past two years I think of you. Every single day. Re-imagining the what ifs, the times when I should have run away, the situations wherein I could have stopped it and rescued myself, and so many times where I should have valued myself more. The simple thought of facing you again makes my whole body shake. I always think of the possibility of running into you, looking around trying to find your face in strangers. But it is time to bid goodbye to this ghost of you that's haunting me ever since. I know you moved on even before I left. I accept that maybe for a few moments I meant something to you, but those moments are gone. At the end, I was wiser to learn that some people are just like a chocolate cookie: only an initial, momentous joy and no nutritional value at all. I was good to you overall, I was even great in some moments. Yet, nothing was enough. If you wanted to, you would have. You said that so yourself. 

After surviving this long year that brought me to my knees, I know that reliving those moments and wishing that things could have been better is like cutting myself emotionally. I was a survivor. Now, I have to thrive. So, thank you for your friendship and the fun moments we shared. I walked away physically in 2021 and now I must sever this toxic, leeching, masochistic connection that lingers and weighs on my being. 

I have to choose myself, not yesterday, but today and tomorrow. 

I choose myself.

I accept myself just like I am. 

I forgive myself for choosing you, I forgive myself for connecting with you, I forgive myself for waiting for you, and I forgive myself for all the time I wasted on you. 

I am proud of myself that I never compromised myself to bend to your will. 

I am fine, and I will be great. 

I will heal myself. 

I shed this weight that's holding my breath hostage and bury it in the ground to return it to the elements so that the universe can claim it back and make it pure again.

Goodbye

The Blood and the Body

 Here is something I realized this month: All regrowth and rejuvenation "hacks" just promote blood flow. From growing hair to relaxing sore muscles, it is all a game of blood. This also means that that blood needs to be healthy for the healing to happen. I'll be the first to admit that all have done this year, at least since March, is poison my body. I have been surviving only on sugars, processed crap, and chocolate. My buoys in the maelstrom that has been my life. But all this is only worsening my situation. I have gained 20 pounds and have lost a whole lot of hair. I have deep dark circles and attention span is now just attention seconds. Building back is going to be painful and tough. After watching the big guy effortlessly cruise through 500 stairs while every muscle in body was shaking and crying, the shame is unbearable. Health is truly the only wealth that matters; health is the foundation of everything. I hope this realization isn't too late. Here's to all the bad junk I put in my stomach. My body, I hope you can forgive me. And here's to the next decade dedicated to holistic and proper health (no reckless shortcuts, no yo-yo dieting, no punishing). I hope I can give my body the respect it deserves. 

And reader, if you exist, by no means we must become health nuts worshiping at the altar of special supplements and protein shakes. Moderation is key. I think I have swayed the balance in the other direction too much and need a hard reset. You are welcome to enjoy moderation. I hope you treated your blood and body better than I did.

I cannot keep this up

Have you felt so unsettled that every single part of your being wants to run away from everything, even itself? I want to disintegrate, explode, be free. Sometimes I catch myself not even breathing, in a way holding onto a breath to stop time. This year has brought me to my knees and I am only sinking lower.

In some ways I received a lot, but in many others I have lost everything. A shell, mostly cracked, I don't know how long I can go on. Starting a whole new chapter of life is supposed to be exciting and joyful. But why is it not? Why does it make me feel so alone that I almost don't want to do it? I ran away from everyone and everything. In some ways, I am still running.

I dream of peace, the kind one feels when one is in the middle of the ocean. Float, far and away from everything that is real. Feeling lighter than ever, moving towards no goal. Still, only rocked by the occasional waves. No pull of a tether, no pace to keep. Let me float away, adrift into the abyss; never to be found again.

They try to put their labels: burnout, depression, anxiety, loneliness etc. yet, these are meaningless words for they just pick at the symptoms. The journey which led me here is one too complex for mere description and annotation. How am I to put all I feel in one box? How do I tell another all my miseries? For all who wronged me weren't bad people; good people do bad things all the time. They cut too deep but never realized. I am too proud to admit I was hurt. I want to retain the last thing I have left: my dignity. 

As I sink in my feet, I just do not want these memories. The pain was not worth the momentary good I got. The arrow teared through, a permanent gash, a void never to be filled. All those who praise me now, I do not believe. I know what you did, I remember every word, I cannot forgive. Trust me, I tried, I just cannot forget all that you said and you did. I hope these memories vanish so I don't have relive those moments time and time again. All I ever wanted was to be accepted for me.

What can I say

 The world feel faded, the body feels heavier. My muscles will give way, letting the entire viscera fall to the ground. It's as if my whole being is being held together with shreds.

 

Less than a week to go, for this tumultuous journey. I wish I could say its victory, I wish I could rejoice in its end. Yet, I all I am is numb. Inside and out, just numb. Poke me and I'll disintegrate into a billion pieces. I was running from my reality when I began, now I must stop and accept. Wounded beyond repair, little sheen remains. 30 odd years I spent on this planet of which only 3 were worth living. I am tired to my bones. The only thought that remains: What am I fighting for? How long can I fight? I don't know anymore. All I can do is grieve my youth.

In the four years here, I have nothing to show for myself. No great accomplishments, no prized connections. If I had to live it all over again, I won't! Every single aspect of my being has been tested. Even though I may be breathing, I am not living. They call it depression, I call it survival for how much can the brain bear? It protects me from the pain by turning it all off, leaving me in a void. I am not strong enough to continue. The calm is temporary. My dreams are tortured.

With no end in sight, I am doomed to live out my days here. Hoping for a savior is futile, I know. New problems await to be solved. I know I can live out the rest of the days alone too. I know I can endure, if and only if, I can turn the clock back by 5 years. The damage has compounded, and I can't pay the interest. I often claim to live for my mother, for she won't survive if I don't. But how true is that? Is it just my cowardly excuse?

Why did this all go so wrong? The dominoes fell and look at the end. Each and every one I held close, pulled me apart little by little. I might look whole, it is but a shell. Look closely, and you may see the seams. Nothing has healed, still writhing in pain. This year, particularly, my laughter has died too. I tried to reclaim it, but decayed to earth. Never will I complain, for there is no to listen. Most will be surprised to read that is my inner life. 

How much longer do I have? 6 months or 30 more years. I don't even want 6 more seconds. Take me back and renew me. My soul is sick of this tomb. Pull me apart one last time so it can all end. I know it is selfish to ask. They will suffer too. But isn't one shot suffering better than a life long sore? Soon I'll just be nothing but a faint memory in their lives, a photo in some corner covered in dust. Maybe my brother will remember some silly instances, and my mom will cry. Uncle will be lost, and dad.... nevermind. I apologize in advance, my family, you deserved better. What can I give you? A empty vessel has nothing. 

If I must endure, I shall seek some healing. Not sure what they can do, but cant hurt me more, can they? I wanna know what I could have been, the full potential of me. If there were no wounds, no fights, no slights. If those people hadn't done what they did, If I picked wisely and ran away from evil. I want to know that me! I guess she will have immense pity for me.

Him

The day of June,

We met under fluorescent lights,

my attempts at connection hit a high wall,

I inadvertently rejected him too 

Fate pushed us close, even if it was superficial

Spent days under the yellow tinted skies

in those little moments, I saw him

both fighting our own fights, 

the tide was against us

I reached, maybe not far enough

he held, intermittently, 

but let go so abruptly.

We adapted, I gave up

It's all over now

Never once he realized I needed help too

Never once he offered

I wish him well

His fight is over, he earned his rest

We are headed for opposite ends

 I am curious though

How will you remember me?

Will you?