For some reason, I can’t keep my eyes off the short loop. There’s beauty in nature and in daily experiences. I think most people depend on others or a lot of money to feel this happiness, but I think, happiness is always a state of mind.
i was told by everyone that it gets easier. every day it gets easier. but you have to go through it every day. that's the hard part. but it can only get easier. i had kept thinking and wishing it would pass. why did it feel like it was festering instead? i'm so tired of keeping people at arm's length; i'm so afraid of being asked something like: "how are you today?" because the last thing you want to tell someone is the fact that you had just been staring at the wall for two hours, too mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted from putting up a front at school, at home, from having a heavy bouts of crying pencilled into your schedule at night, from spending the days wishing you hadn't woken up instead, from taking accounts of all the pieces in your life that had crumbled beyond repair, because you were barely getting any sleep the past months, because you couldn't help but to conjure all the flashbacks every time you close your eyes, only to realize in the morning you had passed out from the subsequent panic attack, and at the end of the day crumpling up into a crying blob. *** i can never imagine myself going through all alone. but along the way i learn that what's worse than being all alone is actually being with someone who makes you feel all alone. when the only way is learn a way to ease the loneliness along the way of the tunnel. and if the scar is so deep, so was the love. so be it. and that's what happens, you know? the hole in your heart becomes a part of you. and then eventually, you die and become a hole in the heart of every person who love you too. the absence still lingers— even until now. but the days i cry i'm grateful to remember the love at all.
i was told by everyone that it gets easier. every day it gets easier. but you have to go through it every day. that's the hard part. but it can only get easier. i had kept thinking and wishing it would pass. why did it feel like it was festering instead? i'm so tired of keeping people at arm's length; i'm so afraid of being asked something like: "how are you today?" because the last thing you want to tell someone is the fact that you had just been staring at the wall for two hours, too mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted from putting up a front at school, at home, from having a heavy bouts of crying pencilled into your schedule at night, from spending the days wishing you hadn't woken up instead, from taking accounts of all the pieces in your life that had crumbled beyond repair, because you were barely getting any sleep the past months, because you couldn't help but to conjure all the flashbacks every time you close your eyes, only to realize in the morning you had passed out from the subsequent panic attack, and at the end of the day crumpling up into a crying blob. *** i can never imagine myself going through all alone. but along the way i learn that what's worse than being all alone is actually being with someone who makes you feel all alone. when the only way is learn a way to ease the loneliness along the way of the tunnel. and if the scar is so deep, so was the love. so be it. and that's what happens, you know? the hole in your heart becomes a part of you. and then eventually, you die and become a hole in the heart of every person who love you too. the absence still lingers— even until now. but the days i cry i'm grateful to remember the love at all.
