We’ll take it slow for now

I open the door to exit the room,

Then I close it and reach out

To the next doorknob.

I stop midway, I put

My arms down my side.

I walk in the noisy hallway

Past so many different doors.

It feels like I’m running.

I find an espresso machine,

I make myself a cup,

I find a sofa and a book,

I sit and I sip.

I read and ignore the

Desires, roaring from behind

The doors I’ve passed.

My desires. My temptations.

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Come back already and swallow my selfishness.

It’s unfair.

And so very sly of you,

To only have you blame me for whatever fucked up shit I put you through.

Blaming me for the way you felt good because you’re used to my whatever vibe.

I blame you too, you know.

Whenever I’m a specific kind of lost,

I look for you in between the crowd of human flesh.

You were the frame that held me together when something didn’t work out.

I got used to you making me feel safe when I felt empty and unlovable or too hard to handle.

You knew what you were doing, and don’t lie to the both of us that you were clueless.

You wanted to pick up my pieces and show me that only you could do it.

And it’s true, but the whole truth is you can only do that when I’m half lost and almost healing;

It doesn’t work when I’m too broken or have fully healed.

Now, I’m almost healing,

And all I can think about when you cross my mind is

I can’t wait to tell you how shitty it has been and how close I am to being okay.

I blame you too.

So now, we’re even.

What went wrong?

We “functioned by pain”

And we both were getting high on that.

It was convenient…

No it wasn’t.

I was just dealt the right card at the right time.

The strength you had and the strength you gave me

Can only be in and be given by you.

And I should have been aware of all of this from the beginning,

But I can’t always be right,

And whenever I was right, it was because I’ve learnt this before…

I think,

The thing that put me off

Or the thing that delayed my full understanding is

My sudden extreme sense of hope.

I’ve never hoped about something the way I did towards anything related to you or us.

And it was either hope or complete awareness of our situation.

Now.. with realizing how incompatible we really are,

How we both can never be the pillar that can help the other to stand tall and confident,

How we can cause so much misery under the umbrella of I love you’s,

After I’ve become aware that this love story can never be repeated

With you (again) or anyone else.

The hope I had that our story has not yet ended cease to exist.

The hope that I could find someone that could make me feel the way you did is no longer alive.

I’ve buried it, said my prayers, and now I grieve,

With a satisfied heart still beating and moving on…

I miss the feeling of being in love.

What I once found fulfilling

And had me melt like

Our cheesy comments,

Now feels so foreign and strange.

Do emotions just blind us completely?

Not in a way where everything seems dark

And you cannot see.

But in a way where there’s too much light

And you look the other way

Or end up closing your eyes.

As if these intense emotions are there

To amplify and hype up anything

That could be good into beautiful .

And once that light dims,

Your eyes adjust and start to see clearer.

And what once took your breath away,

Now, is extraordinarily ordinary.

“Hello darkness my old friend..” Hello depression. Hello stress.

I thought visiting their graves was enough,

Exchanging thoughts and breathing the same air, for a while.

Then leaving for a more hopeful destination.

But my visits have been more frequent recently,

I thought I’d stop coming a long time ago.

And this weekend, I found an invitation as clear as daylight.

I should have never showed up.

But here I am.

Facing them, drawn to them, again.

Feeding on my weak heart.

Telling me to dig them up from the ground.

Promising me what I couldn’t achieve yet, alone.

Promising me again, that I needed them.

And I’m tempted to give in.

But the last time I did that, it didn’t turn out well.

And the recovery was painful.

So I stand there, silently crying,

Waiting,

Searching for the strength within me

To pull me away from that cemetery

To get over the dead.

To make peace with my living self.

I stand there trembling.

Afraid to let go.

Afraid to be alone.