There are things I want to tell you all the time. But I don’t want to wear the words out, or bore you, or frighten you away. There are things I want to say that I already think you know but are afraid to hear even if you appear to be listening. There are worlds in you, and the only words that come to mind when I think of you are magic and stardust.
Nobody can understand your love, they’re not ready for such a pure soul.
People fear such a depth in individuals, it scares them because its unseen.
For that reason my dear, you’ll remain odd to this world, you’ll remain an enigma.
They are ignorant to everything about me…They see me smile and they believe it…It is as simple as that…They dont even what to doubt it…They dont see the invisible bombs ready to blast…Once it triggers I will be nothing but an abstract sculpture meant for aesthetic purposes…
There is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart… I’ll always be with you.
You can’t fall back in love with someone. Because you can’t love the same person twice. Because they’re not the same person. They were changed by the first time you loved them. And they were changed by the first time you left them too. So when you lean in close and whisper that you’re falling in love with me again, after all this time, make sure you’re in love with me, and not the memories.
You’re in your twenties, living alone or maybe with a roommate or two. You’re in the kitchen making two-minute noodles or in your bedroom folding a huge pile of clothes because of course you put off doing the laundry until you don’t have a single piece of clothing that you can wear or re-wear. Maybe you’re listening to music and the song that’s playing starts to drip through you in the way that IV fluid drips out of the bag, and you’re just standing there thinking about work or chores or groceries. Maybe you’re on a new project that you’re really excited about. And you suddenly feel disconnected. Like you’re standing in someone else’s home and living someone else’s life, like even this body doesn’t belong to you. You want to go somewhere familiar, but nothing feels familiar. Maybe your parents’ house used to be home but it isn’t anymore, and you’re stuck. You think about who you are, hoping that it will ground you, but that person feels alien and your own mind is suddenly a foreign thing that exists separately from your consciousness even though that doesn’t make any fucking sense. There are things that you used to know with a sureness that was categorically undeniable, a go-to person that you don’t go to anymore, a favourite book that bores you now, a comfort food that tastes like nothing these days. You’re in an endless instant, the end of everything until now and the beginning of everything to come. You try to picture the way your life will turn out but it looks like an overexposed polaroid, too bright and indecipherable. You look back at how you got to this point and the you from your past feels like a stranger. All your strings have slowly come undone, some were cut and some just frayed over time, and it feels like there’s nothing holding you to this place, to this life, to here and now, but you’re still stuck. A soap bubble in winter, floating and frozen. The song is almost over, though. All you need to do is breathe. Breathe. In and out. The moment will pass and you will go on with your day. You’re going to be okay.
The hardest question to answer is always ‘Who are you?’ Because how do you answer that? How do you fit the entirety of your being into something as simplistic as words? The epoch of who you are could, in essence, span centuries, could wrap around the earth, and light the skies of every dawn. And, even then, that wouldn’t capture the whole of it.