writing prose

i like to think that the reason you didn’t let me come back everytime i came running was because you didn’t want to put me through that pain again,

and not because you’re fucking her now,

not because you’ve found someone else to fill the heart shaped hole in your chest so you don’t need me around to do it anymore,

something in me likes to think that somewhere in you there is a boy who regrets the hurt he’s caused and the scars he’s made and not just a boy who wears girls down until they’re just skin and bone and then heartlessly wanders off to the next.

You are
the kindest person
I have ever known,
not because of your words
or what you’ve done
but because you always
used to bring out
the best me
I could be.
—  // –
And as much as I hate to say it, I just realized that as I grew older, I already accepted that some people will not always be there for me every time I need them. That no matter how wide I opened my door, they would never come in. That no matter how loud I shouted their names, they wouldn’t turn around and face me. I already accepted the fact that they also have their own problems—to solve. That sometimes they need to save themselves first. It wasn’t being a bad friend nor a selfish one. But it was just us human beings wanting and searching for a mean to survive. And yes, I understand, even if it broke my heart not only once but too many times.
—  ma.c.a // Cold feet, warm heart
1. take pictures of your friends. take pictures with your friends. take as many pictures as you possibly can. even if they start to get annoyed with you, even if either of you feel “ugly” that day, even if you just took one the other day. because a day is going to come where all you’ll have is pictures and wishing you had more than what you’re left with hurts just as badly as losing them.

2. do the thing that scares you. do the thing that you’ve always wanted to do but have always been too scared to try. don’t force yourself if it doesn’t feel right but don’t be scared to try new things. as cheesy and cliche as it sounds, stepping out of your comfort zone, even for a moment, is worth it. regret is not.

3. it’s okay to hurt. if it hurts, that means it mattered.

4. sometimes, when something breaks, it cannot be fixed. there was nothing you could have done to make them change their mind, nothing you could have said to make them stay. the two of you broke apart, but that doesn’t mean you are broken.

5. heal, mourn, grieve. let yourself feel. don’t try to force the healing, it’ll come naturally, when it’s time.

6. there are going to be days when all you do is lay in bed, drink coffee, and refresh various social media apps. that’s okay. you’re allowed to rest, you’re allowed to do nothing. you don’t have to validate doing nothing.

7. you’re going to face a fear you didn’t even know you had. but you won’t have to face it alone.

8. don’t keep it all in your head. let the bad thoughts out to make room for the good ones.

9. whatever you think you did, whether it be in this life or a past life, to deserve suffering and pain does not exist. you don’t deserve to hurt. you don’t deserve to make yourself hurt. you don’t deserve to suffer. you don’t deserve to make yourself suffer.

10. you’re going to do things, you’re going to make decisions, you’re going to make yourself see things or read things that are going to hurt you. self harm isn’t limited to bruises or bleeding; you’re hurting yourself by caring about someone who doesn’t care about you anymore. that’s not to say that you should stop caring about them, but you should definitely stop checking their twitter account in the middle of the night.

11. you don’t need to look like anyone else to be a certain kind of person. you’re you and you are enough just the way you are.

12. get outside and lose yourself beneath the rays of the sun, escape to a place where it doesn’t hurt as badly as it does inside your house.

13. you’re gonna screw up, but that doesn’t make you a screw up.

14. it’s okay to set boundaries, it’s okay to distance yourself from others. it doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make you mean. it’s okay to put your own needs and wants above others. it doesn’t mean you don’t care, but you need to care about yourself first.

15. there was a person you thought you could never live without. and you will be without them. and you will still be alive.

16. you know what will make you feel worse, and you know what might make you feel slightly better – even if it doesn’t work 100%, it’s still better than doing the wrong thing. these choices are yours, so make the right one all of the time.

17. family isn’t always blood. sometimes, family can be the people who choose you and who keep on choosing you, not because they have to but because they want to. this isn’t a family you’re born into, but rather a family you find and create for yourself.

18. home isn’t four walls and a roof over your head, but rather someone that makes you feel safer than any building can.

19. happiness won’t always be so far and few.

20. never underestimate just how healing a car ride with your best friend can be.

21. you matter. you really do.

22. hope isn’t silly and though sometimes slippery, never stop clinging to it.

23. try taking your own advice from time to time. allow yourself to grieve, to be wounded, to cry, to hurt. allow yourself to heal. try to remember that one day, having all of this hope won’t have been for nothing and start promising yourself the things you promise others; that it’s going to be okay, genuinely and sincerely. because it’s the truth. you survived this year, you’ll survive the next.
—  23 things i learned at 23 // happy birthday to me
(cc, 2017)
How do you know you’re happy? Truely happy? And not just pleased with a situation or satisfied with a result?“ I asked.
He thought of his answer for a moment and a shy smile was tugging on the corners of his lips, "When you aren’t living for the week ends any longer, when a Tuesday feels just as worthy as a Saturday and when you fall asleep easily on a Sunday night, that’s when you know it’s permanent.
—  // excerpt from a story I’ll never write
Because you
made me feel
like an avalanche
refusing to land,
and I’m not sure
if I’m gonna love
or hate you
for that.
—  ma.c.a // Do I still have the right to get mad?

This is not a love poem. This is a tooth and nail poem. This is my hand on his throat. This is his voice at 2 a.m with his hands on my hips. This is what we say Gods name for. This is not a love poem. This is a forest fire. It’s not knowing where my hands belong unless they’re on him. Where I️ can’t breathe if he’s not in the room. Where I️ can’t breathe if he is. This is not a love poem. This is the war cry of the body. Take me. Unmake me. Remake me. Whatever you do, make me yours.

I am pretending the rot in me is temporary. That I can spoon it out with food or stranger’s bodies or driving too quickly. That if I just treat the symptoms I will wake up okay. You can cut me open and I’d probably thank you for it. I’m just fine if you don’t look directly. The sun is a closed fist. But what can I say. Nothing bad has ever happened to me. I’m just bad at being whole. I’m good at ugly.

And so you got drunk with him. Even though 13-year-old you swore that you would never drink. And you sat next to him at a party with 100 other people. And you memorised his eyes and felt alive. 

And when he told a joke, you laughed. Properly laughed. Laughed so much that you could barely breathe. And when you looked up, he was still gazing at you as intently as when you’d looked away.

And at some point in the night, he reached for your hand and you let him. And you found your fingers curling around his like they knew something you didn’t. 

And you were happy. And it was like you’d never felt that kind of happiness before. And you told him clumsily, your head on his chest, “please don’t hurt me, I won’t know what to do if you do." 

And he kissed your forehead and said, "okay”. And somehow, somehow, that “okay” was enough for you.
—  Sue Zhao 
Keep dancing until your feet get tired,
Keep singing until your throat gets sore.
Keep walking until you found your desired destination.
But keep loving even if your heart gets broken.
That’s how life goes on.
You need to get up and move forward,
even if it’s harder than being stuck and staying in the same situation.
—  ma.c.a // Take a rest sweetie, but never give up

Let’s forget everything that has happened,“ he said, "and start again." 

And I said: "I can’t." 

"Why not?” he asked, “don’t you love me enough?" 

And I replied: "it’s not that, it’s that I loved you too much. It’s that I let you in too fast. Everything you did affected me in some way. Every time you tore me apart. 

"I couldn’t start afresh, even if I tried. Our past has affected me in ways that I can’t forget.

—  Sue Zhao // Conversations with an ex

Maybe you’re in your mid-20s, and you’re going through some tough mental health issues, and you’re feeling left out in life. Maybe you sometimes ask yourself if it’s too late for you to heal. To turn everything in your life around.

Some people who are younger than you have it all together. Sticking with your depression seems to make a lot of sense. You’ve learned so late about stuff. Maybe it’s your passion for writing poetry or painting or making music. You’ve learned that you’ve wasted years doing useless things. You’re now living a life filled with regrets, and I’m here to tell you that you’re not alone in feeling this way and that you are never too late to heal.

Everyone has made mistakes. Everyone has wasted years. Everyone has their own regrets. And you and I are late bloomers in passion and in healing. We don’t need to compare our progress to anyone other than ourselves. We are what overcomes us at the present moment. We are not prisoners of our pasts, but we are pioneers of our futures.

So please, let’s not stop writing poems, painting, and making music because this is what we love doing because we’re artists. Each and every single one of us is a revolution in the flesh conquering the tyranny of regret and despair. Each and every single one of us are heroes that make the world a better place through healing ourselves through our art. Yes, we are going through our quarter-life crisis, but that’s not going to stop us from creating and healing while there’s still air in our lungs and blood pumping through our hearts.

We are never too late to heal because we’re just getting started and we’re going to leave this place filled with hope and self-love.

—  Juansen Dizon, You Are Never Too Late To Heal
He looked at her with his bottom lip drawn in, studying her face whilst taking a sip of the wine they had opened a while ago.
‘What is it?’ she asked once the silence filled the space between them, soaking their bodies and making her shiver.
He lowered his gaze and sighed.
'Do you want me to be honest? Brutally honest, just once?’
The tone in his voice made her jump and while she really did not want to hear it, did not want to witness the words she knew were about to drop from his lips, she could not do anything but nod.
'If it comes down to it,’ he started, 'the whole problem is that you fill all my emptiness, the hollow space inside of me - whilst I could never fill yours.’
—  // excerpt from a story I’ll never write