Almost perfect.

"The flower doesn't dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes." -Mark Nepo.

What we had was almost perfect;

the walks by the sea, the rides in the taxi,

the talks on the phone, the drives back home,

the jokes between lullabies, the doodles between cries,

the Disney dreams, the football screams,

the laughs at the corridor, the trips to the bookstore,

the unnecessary arguments, the cutest presents, 

the impromptu karaoke sessions, the dream vacations,

and the little things for us to keep, just for us to bring in our sleep.

It was everything I imagined and more.

What I hope is for us to open the doors sooner;

to see clearer, to understand better.

Though it's okay babe, the fogs cleared and I'm not in a haze anymore.

It took me a long time to fathom the reasons, 

but here I am; grasping the fact that we are on a break. 

I wrote you letters and I thought I wasn't good enough for you.

When in reality, I always knew that we are all perfectly imperfect. 

What we had was almost it and maybe we were just not ready to be perfect.

Give us time, give us space. 

We will find our way back to each other, as friends or more.

Here's to finding ourselves and figuring out the game plan.

Here's to drilling motivations and achieving goals.

Here's to building castles in Spain-- and Indonesia. 

I'm not good enough.

"You need to realize that you have toxic traits too and that you might be toxic to other people." -unknown.

I knocked on your wooden door and peeked through the glass window. I rang the house bell and called out your name. "Babe, are you home?" There was no answer. You didn't answer. Weird. I saw you in the kitchen, I caught you looking at me. I was excited. I was pumped to see you, to talk to you. So I waited for you to open the door, I waited for you to let me in. 

Shut. The door was still shut.

Weird. 

I thought it was my chance to finally speak with you but you were exhausted. A whole restless year- I understood that you wanted to be alone. 

I waited by your pavement, I waited at the cafe across the road. I checked my phone for texts, eagerly waiting for your name to pop up in my notifications. None. I understood. 

You wanted to be alone. I have always reminded you how important me-time is. 

So I understood.

I pinged your phone, I asked for your time and attention. 

but you were lost- confused. 

You wanted to be alone. I understood. 

I started overthinking. I started crying myself to sleep.

I started wondering if you still feel the same about me.

I tried reaching out to you but I also tried holding myself back. The last thing I wanted was to annoy you- but I missed you. 

I wanted to talk to you, I wanted to know if you were okay. 

I tried reaching out to you and I did not hold myself back. 

You were annoyed, you got mad. 

I wanted to talk to you but you were not okay. 

Maybe it's my fault; I shouldn't have pushed you.

Weird. A day felt like a week. 

It felt really odd not talking to the one person you spoke to on a daily basis. God, worried would be an understatement. I feared that I was not good enough for you. Maybe you got tired of me. Soon--

I found out the break you needed was from me. 

I was making you uneasy. 

I was a disturbing fly that could not leave your food alone.

I was a buzzing bee around your fresh flowers. 

I tried to understand, but I couldn't. 

I saw you opening the door for your friends, letting them in at any time of the day. You greeted them with warm hugs, offered them coffee and sprite. Weird. I walked to your door and knocked. I knocked on the door, I rang the bell. I was excited. I was pumped to see you, to talk to you. 

I saw you laughing with your guests so I waved to you, trying to grab your attention. You saw me. You looked me in the eyes. I waited for you to open the door, I waited for you to let me in.

Shut. The door was still shut.

Weird.

I wrote letters to him.

"Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory." -Isaac Marion.

I wrote letters to him; because that's the only way to voice my feelings.
I wrote letters to him, confessing my first impression of him.
I wrote letters to him, praising how amazing I think he is.
I wrote letters to him, pushing him to be the best version of himself.
I wrote letters to him, reminding him how far he has gone.
I wrote letters to him, letting him know how proud I am to see him grow.

I wrote letters to him, trying to make him understand my anxiety.
I wrote letters to him, writing bits of poems that remind me of him.
I wrote letters to him, telling how excited I am for our next encounter, our next date.
I wrote letters to him, explaining how jittery I get when he is around.
I wrote letters to him, expressing how much he changed my life.

I wrote letters to him, making sure he knows how much I love him.
I wrote letters to him, portraying how much I miss his presence.
I wrote letters to him, knowing that he is going to read them when he misses me.
I wrote letters to him, hoping he would understand how important he is to me.
I wrote letters to him, wanting to get at least one reply;
one letter explaining every little thing,
one letter for me to read over and over.

DR-DIARY // volume-3

The Dark Words You Walk Down At Night by Iain S. Thomas.


This is why it hurts the way it hurts.

You have too many words in your head. There are too many ways to describe the way you feel. You will never have the luxury of a dull ache.

You must suffer through the intricacy of feeling too much. 


DR-DIARY

UPDATE: It's the fourth day of me trying to get myself together and so far, I am failing better. Thank goodness.

No matter how hard I try to make myself busy and distract myself to unravel my mind, I would still find myself curling up in a ball, trying to catch my breath in between sobs and cries. 

Here's a question: Do we get dehydrated by crying a whole lot OR are we hydrated from the tears streaming down our faces? I'm gonna leave you with that.

Since Jarred vanished, it took me a good three years to brush everything off. To forget him, to move on, to leave him right where he belong; in the past. It was a very rough experience and I wish to never go through it ever again. All praises to god, I finally got back on my two feet and focus on what is ahead of me. I no longer think about him, I no longer have daydreams of him. Believe it or not, I never thought that was possible as he was once my ride or die. 

However, with Calla gone, every thing seems a little more harder. Things are getting difficult to grasp, difficult to understand. Losing contact with someone so dear to me is one, let alone losing someone for good. I know I will never get to see her smile anymore and that shatters my glass heart. I tried to mend it with thousands of remedies that I googled but none could mend it the way I do it with Calla. Having lunch by the beach with her, making homemade banana ice cream and running around town trying to make up what we would get as each other's wedding gift. It breaks me every time I think of her, worrying that I would forget the sound of her voice and the look in her eyes when she gets her favourite sweet potato crisp. 

It has been exactly 6 months since I last heard from her and I still go to bed crying, wishing she would come over just to binge on 'Castle' together. Losing both Jarred and Calla makes me hesitant to make new best friends, to break the walls I built and start over. It's easy to shake hands with strangers and share meals with the girls from flying class but it is never easy to open up and share what's in my head. If there is one thing I am sure of, if anyone ever gets to have a peek in my brain, they would faint. It is too crowded, I don't think even an ant could breathe in it. (not literally).

Once upon a time, I tried opening up to a guy in Potion (Mr. Wood made us partners) and he looked like someone I could trust. It was wonderful at first, we promised to help each other with our struggles and all that shenanigans. Not that I was surprised, he distanced himself from me when I told him something he claimed was ""too dark"". It was the thoughts I had in my mind and the million feelings I had, bottled up in a massive bathtub because an extra large water jug wasn't enough. Still not enough and never will be. 

I never spoke to anyone of my feelings or thoughts ever again. 

Kosong

Having emotions is tiring.
Sure it's fun when you
dapat gelak, dapat senyum, dapat enjoy, dapat sayang, dapat benci.
tapi when you rasa semua tu, you actually feel nothing inside;
macam mana?

walking with your group of friends talking about nonsense everything,
physically you look happy but really you're just gloomy.
dead. mati. hati tak berfungsi.

It's that lacunae inside my heart that bugs me.
Those empty holes that I try to patch and mend,
for years and years,
I tried this, I tried that
tapi tak menjadi-jadi.
Takkan nak guna drywall kot?

People say I have that pink personality
but really-
what is that?

People say that I am friendly and approachable,
I have that vibe that is remarkable
but what they don't know is...
my soul is black macam kena colour dengan marker.

Jap........
no.
It's transparent. It's empty.
There isn't anything to be seen.
Kosong. Lopong.
Tak, aku tak bohong.
This is not a gimmick, i'm not trying to pull a trick.
Anxiety, depression, bipolar, eating disorder,
yes mental disorders are realistic.

Don't you get it?
It's nothing you feel when everything else is happening.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

See? Sama je,
dead. mati. hati tak berfungsi.

for you, Calla.

"There is nothing better than the encouragement of a good friend." -Katharine Butler Hathaway

I remember her warm tears on the palm of my hand and the sobbing cry she let out. It was before she let go of my hands that she said ''Babe, I love you and I'm sorry. I did what I did for the best of you and I hope you'll keep soaring like you always do,".
It broke my heart in a way I never thought was possible.
She was already being dragged down by the demons inside of her. I've been trying to pull her out from the dark hole but I failed miserably.
I remember the times she would ring my phone to fill me in on her day, even when we just saw each other an hour before. Adorable little girl. I remember the times she would knock on my door and give me a massive hug when I told her I was crying. I remember the weekends we would go on ice-cream dates to reward ourselves after a long week.
I was with her day and night, we walked and talked, we played and laughed, we did everything together, but oh god- my best friend of soooo many years was suffering and I failed to keep her alive. I thought I could save her, I thought I could keep her sane.
Scales have fallen from my eyes now, it's clear that every beaming smile she showed was her hiding the agony stitched in her wounds.
Reminiscing the years we spent together fighting and apologizing after minutes, I'm finding myself drenched in tears on a Thursday night. We have always been each other's precedence and we liked it that way. We were the duo that never left each other's side. We were Aly and AJ, Niki and Gabi.
Sigh, not anymore huh babe? It's like I am missing a tooth- things feel different now.
Heck, it feels like I lost my entire life.
Calla Antonio, I miss you. Come back.

With forever love,
Delphinium Rose.