Shara's shenanigans

My blogs: Sometimes they suck, sometimes they're not shit.

[mundanekamilia]

The day Mariana Zapata writes a male POV in her book it’s over for us bitches

[books-quoted]

And I guess I realized at that moment that I really did love her. Because there was nothing to gain, and that didn’t matter.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (via books-quoted)

[francesshara]

Test Question

Whenever I'm in a bit of situation, I ask myself this one question.

"Do I deserve this?"

And if my gut answered no, I'll immediately pick up my bag, go away and most probably never come back.

I have been doing this for as long as I could remember.

But then you came back, your heart freshly broken. Your eyes were so tired. Your shoulders were slouched. Even your hair is a mess. Every bone in your body shows vulnerability. It makes me want to take care of you, to mend you, to make you happy. And so I did.

I picked you up for coffee on cold nights and listened to your stories at dawn. I watched movie with you whenever you feel alone. I hugged and shared your pain. We drank, we smoked, we cheered beers because we were both lost. You on her, and me on you. We shared a meaningless kiss, and you acted like you didn't remember, and so I waited but never did it happen again.

So I dared myself to ask my test question again.

"Do I deserve this?"

And as my mind worked and realized how much I've been hurt and holding up, your face suddenly comes into my mind. You, smiling widely, without a care in the world. So I go back and ask myself again.

"Do I really deserve this?"

And as my mind calculated all the tears I have shed, and realized how much more I could possibly will, your laugh vibrated through my ears. Your playful whispers and silly jokes.

"I don't deserve this"

And I know that's true. But seeing your face lit up whenever I visit you makes me think otherwise. Seeing you grab into this life once more is a factor I couldn't ignore.

So I asked myself again until it became a cycle. I asked myself again until the question lost its meaning. I asked myself again and again, and thought of answers; packing up my bag and unpacking it immediately, driving away but making a U-turn, an endless battle of holding on or letting go.

I got my answer the day you realized that you should stop needing me. And so I only smiled, relieved as I realized that I can stop questioning myself, drinking this fact until a lump formed in my throat. You then said good bye, you thanked me and turned your back, not looking back even once but still I watched you leave. I watched as you walked away from me, you’re body getting smaller and smaller. I watched you for long until I can no longer swallow the pain in my throat and I can no longer see you because of the blur in my eyes. I watched you until I broke down, my shoulders slouched, and my hair’s a mess too, wondering if you’ll come back and asking myself whether to follow you or not. So I stayed here ‘til I don’t know when, unsure of what to do next, unsure of how to pick up the pieces. I stayed here thinking I don’t deserve this and cried realizing that this just don’t matter anymore.

[ryanwithlions]

don't fall in love with me.

don’t fall in love with me

i’ll turn you into poetry and sing out of key

i’ll wake you every morning to see: coffee-colored eyes and i’ll sip from you slowly as i kiss you goodbye

don’t fall in love with me

i’ll map your constellations and make myself at home

i’ll laugh and get nervous when i tell awful jokes so i’ll smile and kiss you on the tip of your nose

don’t fall in love with me don’t get too close

one day, you’ll need me until one day, you won’t

and i’ll write poetry to heal what you broke i’ll try not to miss you until one day, i don’t

don’t fall in love with me don’t give me hope

[slytherinnpride]

[francesshara]

Robin x Barney

[francesshara]

Show me the money *fan review*

*I started it from season 3 though*

What I've realized upon watching SMTM seasons 3-5 is this: 

SMTM 3- Still the best season for me. The performances aren't even that flashy compared to 4 & 5 but they still killed the stage. They don't have guests with big names but they still got the crowd hyped. Lastly, NO. DRAMAS. I wish MNET could go back to this format where we don't need to sympathize to the contestant's life dramas that could (undoubtedly) affect voters decisions. For me, judging based on pure talent is the unbiased way. 

SMTM 4-  Invented the flashiest stages (I think it's team AOMG, correct me if i'm wrong though). SMTM 4 can be summarized into three words. DRAMAS. ISSUES. PREJUDICES. SMTM4 was a mess. There were some good stages though. But ugh, those dramas, I just can't handle. 

SMTM 5- The return of SMTM. I surprisingly liked season 5 too. I loved their stages and format this time around. A little downer for me was, the ending is what I've expected. Let's admit it. It was Bewhy vs CJamm all along. It was a good season though. ♥ 

 Hoping that S6 will be as good as the previous ones. SML ♥

[francesshara]

So I finished reading this book in one seating, and I did not regret it, not even a minute.

*WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD*

I never did fastwriting.

When I write, I edit a lot. I reread my work a lot. It may take up days, or maybe weeks to finish. I’m that cautious.

Actually, today was the first time I learned fast writing, and yes it was because of this book. So this is my first time doing this.

This is also my first time finishing a book about LGBT love. The experience was better than I have imagined. I learned a lot. I realized a thing or maybe more than that. I got to know Rafe.

Rafe would be my type of friend. Fun, dorky, smart and he loves writing as much as I do. I empathized with him. I understood him, as if he were really my friend (even though I got to read about him jerking off) 😂

I gotta be honest though (uh-oh), I felt that story was cut too short. I need more of Rafe and Ben. I need the satisfaction knowing they made up, that things went okay. I need an epilogue (or maybe a sequel!).

But overall, I still loved it. I think it’s worth mentioning that I had a hard time suppressing my grin while reading it. I had a hard time putting the book down too! I

I’m still glad though, that Rafe realized what he needed to do. I’m still glad he found himself amidst of everything. I’m still glad he’s himself again. I’m so glad he’s happy, not dancing in the air happy, but it’s a start. Another start. 💕

[francesshara]

Sunsets by Curious Owl We were perfect running schemes, A joyful river, a flowing stream But we never saw this sunset coming, A surreal yet perfectly painful ending. (Poetry not mine) Photo: Mine Taken at: Pampanga City, Philippines March 16 2016

[francesshara]

FAVORITE TVD SCENE/DIALOGUE

*cue: Belong by Cary Brothers*

Damon: I wanted to apologize.

Elena: Good.

Damon: Let me finish. I said I wanted to. And then I realized, I’m not sorry.

Elena: You would rather die than be human, and you expect me to be okay with that?

Damon: I didn’t say you were supposed to be okay with it, I just said I’m not sorry. But you know what I really am? Selfish, because I make bad choices that hurt you. Yes, I would rather have died than be human. I’d rather die right now than spend a handful of years with you, only to lose you when I’m too old and sick and miserable and you’re still you. I’d rather die right now than spend my last final years remembering how good I had it and how happy I was, because that’s who I am, Elena, and I’m not gonna change. And there’s no apology in the world that encompasses all the reasons that I’m wrong for you.

Elena: Fine, then I’m not sorry either. I’m not sorry that I met you. I’m not sorry that knowing you has made me question everything, that in death you’re the one that made me feel most alive. You’ve been a terrible person, you’ve made all the wrong choices, and of all the choices that I’ve made this will prove to be the worst one. But I am not sorry that I’m in love with you. I love you, Damon. I love you.

[francesshara]

This Chaos

By Frances Shara Ney All rights reserved, 2016 © May 9, 2016

My friends describe me as a ‘control freak,’ in which, until now, I’m still confused if I should take it as a compliment or an insult. It’s just that I have always tried to live my life following set of rules and checklists; making sure that every decision I make is worth-it, and every future days planned. I have always hated when things don’t go the way I planned. I have always hated chaos. I have always hated change. Call it obsessive too, it’s fine, but it’s the way I liked it; organized and clean room, shirts neatly folded and stacked, and books arranged alphabetically. But then you came; unplanned, a handful of chaos, a little bit of trouble, and I don’t need an eidetic memory just to remember when did you exactly entered my life. I had it written, I had it memorized.

It was Saturday when I first met you. I was hanging out at my favourite coffee shop alone, reading this book I just bought at the same store when you occupied the seat in front of me. You wore your shy smile, and you have this dimple at your left cheek, which I find kind of adorable and then you said hi. I raised my right eyebrow, and smiled at the same time. You pointed at my book and told me it was your favourite, and you smiled again, your dimple more prominent this time. “I guess we’ll see” I said, a little doubtful and then your smile became bigger as you give another book to me. “This is that book’s sequel” you said proudly as you stood up. “And a little heads up. I’m always right.” I laughed at your bluntness, accepting the book, a little bit knowing that you had your number written on some page I would easily see.

It was hard to admit but you were right. I loved the book too much, that I called you right away without thinking, which is unlikely of me. The thing is, I really never had any experiences with men. I have always known my priorities, my goals, and dating isn’t one of those, but you made it easy. You made everything easy. So after sharing a conversation for the same love for a book(s), and reading, I agreed to meet you again.

It was always my free time on Saturday, at the same coffee shop where we first met. And as days passed by, I learned more about you. You were clumsy, I think it’s because you always forget to tie your shoelaces. Unlike me, you like taking risks. You were unorganized, your hair always dishevelled. As weeks passed, I appreciated you more. I won’t admit it but I think that your dishevelled hair matches your dimple; it definitely makes you look cuter. You made me laugh all the time. You understood me, or tried to. You were always there for me. You listened to my stories. You even accepted my ‘crazy.’ You made me broke my rules. You brought chaos in to my perfectly planned life. And then before I know it, you were already in my plans, in my daily schedule. You were already in this space in my mind where no man ever occupied. Who could ever guess that your clumsiness could stumble into me? Who could ever guess that someone like you could like me? I know, because I can feel it. I feel it every time you take my hand and run your thumb over my palm while discussing your favourite quote from a certain book. I can feel it whenever you kiss my forehead. I can feel it whenever you text me something you remembered while you’re busy at work. I can feel it on every good night at 2 am. I can feel it every time you laugh, every time you want to give me a piggy back ride, and every time you smile whenever I say no, half-knowing that we’ll only fall. I can mostly feel it that day, when your face turned serious, your eyes staring intently at me, like you have something to say. And I knew it, maybe I have always known.

Your new girlfriend said her first “I love you” to you today. The three words you’ve wanted to tell me. Those three words I never said to you. I can imagine you right now, smiling so wide as you post it on your Facebook; your eyes glinting, your dimple deeper. And here I am, remembering that day, when I walked out of your life not giving you a chance to say those three words. That day when I suddenly realized how you affected me, how disorganized I had been since I met you and how frightened I had been ever since. Here I am, regretting what I should’ve and could’ve done. Here I am crying, so terrified of commitment and change, and everything unplanned. Here I am, alone and afraid; always so afraid.

[francesshara]

I think it didn’t occur to you that you could lose me; that I could go on days pretending that you don’t exist. I think it didn’t even dawn to you that I could leave you, and replace you anytime I wanted. The thing is, I think it didn’t occur to me too that maybe it’s my fault, being too nice and at the same time, a fool. I gave you my world. I helped you, without expecting much. I cared for you, not a single bit caring if I receive the same kind of care in return. I rebelled for you. I lied to my friends. I decieved myself in hoping that someday you’ll love me the same way as I do. I hoped and hoped until I was hurt. I expected until there was only pain, but the thing is, that pain made me see. You were never going to love me. You were never going to make me happy, to make me feel special. You were never going to be here at my side in times when I need you. Call it selfishness, or greed but you were never going to say goodbye. So i’ll say it now; 12 times so you would realize, in 12 languages so you could feel. Ciao. Adiós. Arriverdecci. auf Wiedersehen. Au revoir. Ja ne. Sayonara. Shalom. Totsiens. Vale. Paalam. Good bye. I hope I’ll never see you again.

Excerpt from a book I will never write #2

[francesshara]

Poetry by Sam

Words turn to sentences to poems, written in just a whim. Scribbled from this paranoid mind, these things I would write to leave it all behind.

5/3/16 – Inspired from: Every Last Word by Tamara Ireland Stone

Best book I’ve read this 2016! 💕💕 Read it, you guys! 💖

[francesshara]

For some reason, some people think I’m a hopeless romantic. Maybe it’s because I quote too much poetry, or I sing a lot about love. But there’s one person who knew I am less than what they think, and it’s you. You know how terrified I am to the idea of ‘commitment’ and ‘long term relationships.’ You know how scared can I get just by imagining my life 20 years from now; like how’s my life going to be with my husband I don’t want to have and kids I don’t want to take care. You know how I hate waiting, and how I loathe the word ‘forever,’ because for me, a long time is such a bore. Yet despite how short my patience is, or how easily my attention can be wavered, you stayed. You showed me that spending a very long time with just one person isn’t bad at all as long as it’s the only person I needed the most. You understood me, and you accepted me. So for that, I want to thank you. I want you to know that you are the only person I want to spend my whole life with. You are the only person I need. But I’m not saying this because i changed. I still have zero patience, I am still terrified, and I swear this idea scares me even more. But, whenever I’m with you, you make me want to believe that ‘forever’ is such a short time, and my love, I can live with that.

excerpt from the book I will never write #1

[francesshara]

Blank space

There was once a girl who loved a boy so much it made her cry.   "What's wrong?" "Nothing. It's just you.." "What about me? What did I do?" "N-no.. I just.. I just love you so much."   And there he is, a boy who loved his girl back, and it made him feel miserable.   "Is my love not enough?" she asked. "No.. It's too much." "Then why?" "Its just... How can you love and love and still love me so much without blank space? Without nothing left?" "I--I don't understand."   He wiped his tears away from his eyes.   "That's why I left."     FIN // Nov. 13, 2014

[francesshara]

Summer love

Do you remember what happened three summers ago? "It was the time you came." you said. "It was the start of summer, but I already had you, my own ray of sunshine" It must have been true. Maybe I did let you feel my warmth. "You did. You made me smile and laugh. You made me love you so much. though it's not that hard. You let me in. You looked into my eyes. You held my hand tight. You kissed me passionately. You made me feel alive." I did? "You even promised that you wouldn't leave me, no matter what." What did I do? "You left me." Oh God. "But don't you worry now." I lifted my head and looked at her eyes once more but she looked away. "I have found my sun." she wisphered as if it's a secret. "He makes me feel like it's summer even if it's December. He lightens my world, more than what a little ray could do." More than? "Yes" she said looking directly at me. Then I hope you are happy. "I am" I clenched my fist so hard it hurts that I have to unclench it. Because the truth is I can still remember all of it. The memory of our happiness and pain feels like it happened just yesterday. And I knew it too. I knew she has someone new, giving her 'more than' what I once gave. So who am I to complain? I turned my back again, and swallowed the lump in my throat. Please don't get burned too much. And instead of hearing a reply, i heard an escaped sob, the one that I was never meant to hear. So I didn't look back, and continued walking, faster than the tears streaming from my eyes. FIN (061815)

[francesshara]

Requited

by Frances Shara R. Ney All rights reserved, 2014 ©         ‘True love comes in many ways’ they say.   I smiled.   I watched the little girl as she slid down the slide. She laughed wholeheartedly, unaware of the world, its complications, every problems and imperfections. I was just like her before, only, I was 19 then. I laugh so weird that it is funny enough that you will laugh with me. I’m happy with what I have. Loving parents and a twenty one- year old sister slash best friend.  But I know I’m still incomplete. I feel loved, but I’m loveless. Ironic isn’t it?   It all started one night in January. It was cold and raining and I am feeling so sentimental. I opened my Tumblr account. I’m an anonymous blogger. My followers don’t know my real name, or how do I look. They just know things I blog, and thank God, they find it interesting. Anyway, as I was feeling so sentimental, I decided to blog about my rants, which is for the first time. I don’t blog my rants. Just now. It’s 23:45 and I will absolutely delete it immediately. I just have to let it out. So I posted it.   Five minutes later, I received a text message from my sister from the other room. “You are starting to get desperate.” I replied, “Fact guilty.” I sighed and deleted my post. I refreshed the site and saw that someone sent me a message. “Why did you delete it? I haven’t finished reading it yet” My forehead creased. Who could this possibly be? “I just have to let it out. It’s nothing important.” I said. He replied again. (I figured out he was a boy because his username was MisterWall) “Who the hell posts something to ‘let something out’ and says it’s nothing important. Of course it’s important. You could talk to me you know. I always loved your sentence construction.” I giggled. Sweet thing. “And who the hell loves sentence construction? Does my sentence taste like God himself served it with chocolates and bananas and words of wisdom?” I replied back. “That’s what I’m talking about.”  He said. I laughed.                   Days passed. We are still in touch. Um, not literally, like call or text messages only. For the few days, I have learned that he is really a boy, his name and his age (21). I learned his likes and dislikes and our mutual interests. We always have so much to talk about and I’m always finding myself wishing that the day wouldn’t end. I just want to talk to him all day, all night. I shared stories too, but I’m holding back. Maybe he really is a good person, but what if he’s not? I sighed. Today is the day. I looked around. Clean room? Check. I looked at myself. I look just the same. I checked my desktop, “You ready?” he asked. I replied, “Yes. Call now.” My screen went black. I saw his face. He saw mine. We talked. We laughed, and he laughed harder because my laugh is too funny. It’s weird it’s not awkward. I guess there are moments like that. I feel good. Maybe he does too. He smiled. I fell in love.                   “You can’t call that love. It’s not love” My sister said to me. I pouted. “Just how many times are you going to say that?” 2 months has passed and she’s still saying that to me. “Until the day you’ve woken up. It’s just ridiculous you know? You haven’t seen each other yet, plus, you met him in the internet. YOU. ARE. NOT. IN. LOVE. Let’s say you like him. Love is much deeper than that.” She sighed. “We’re soul mates” I insisted. “Just because he likes things the same way as you do, doesn’t mean he is your soul mate.”                   “I’m almost there” I texted him. I bit my lip. This is the first time I’ll meet him in flesh. IN FLESH, AND I AM AN HOUR LATE! Curse the heel of my right stiletto when it snapped into two when I’m 20 minutes away from home. Curse the opening time of the malls. Curse the traffic jam. I sighed. No need to stress myself. It’s done. I realized I’m nervous. What if he really is a serial killer? Ugh. I have to stop over thinking. I have faith, and it’s been what? Three months now since I first met him. I trust my instincts. I need a mental reset. I sighed one more time.                   My palms are sweaty as I walked through the crowd in the park where we’re supposed to meet. My eyes searched for his familiar face that I see in my computer, in his pictures, and even in my dreams. Now, those dreams are gonna get real. Someone squeezed my shoulder.                   It wasn’t the perfect meeting. First and foremost, I was late. Second, as he squeezed me, I shrieked. Say what you will, but you’re never prepared for a surprise attack. It deepens the very meaning of ‘Taking your breath away.’ I was gasping. Too late did I realize that he is the boy of my dreams, and unsurprisingly, people are staring at us. He laughed. He took my arm and we ran, out of embarrassment. It wasn’t the perfect date either, but it was fun. He’s not a serial killer. We laughed, and we talked more, like it’s not our first meeting. It’s really fun being with him. It’s different. It’s a change for me and to the life I’ve been living. He’s so caring, I feel loved. I felt comfortable. It’s like he is my safe haven. Deep inside, I knew, he’s the one. I guessed he knew that too, because before we part ways later that day, he kissed me on my forehead and said the words I’ve been thinking since forever. “Maybe, this could work”                   “You can’t call that love. It’s not love”  My sister said to me. I was actually getting tired of this. Exasperated, I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” She said. “Fine. Then how will it work? How will you know if he’s telling the truth?” I just looked at her. She raised her right eyebrow. “I don’t know.” I told her. “I just do.” And I really did. That’s why I liked being with him. I could count on him, unequivocally, to say exactly what he meant, no hedging. He had no idea, I was sure, how much I appreciated it. “Fine” she repeated.                   Days passed by, it was fast. We keep in touch. I really wanted to work it out. So we tried. And it worked. And it’s one of the best things that I’ve experienced. I learned from him. He learned from me. With the trust he earned, I shared more. He did too. We dated again. We hugged. And I loved it. I loved how it affects me, my whole being and my fluttering heart. We held hands. We laughed more. He was mean, but was never off putting. He was amazing. He was perfect. He loved my flaws. I loved his. It made me feel he’s human, because he is. He saw through me. He reached through my soul and I’ve never been so happy to have someone else understands me. He was my wonderwall, and I am his. He said he loved me. And I said I loved him more. And we kissed, it was my first, and I’m so shy because I don’t know how to. But he laughed it off, and my lips danced with his. And it goes on for months, a year and another year. I have never felt so alive.                   “Love is the universal language” I muttered. I’ve never understood it before. But now I do. It’s amazing to think how a person can change you. I was motivated. I was happy. But then again, nothing is permanent in this world, except for change. Change, is change. It happens anytime and like other unexplainable phenomenon in the world, it has no rules. Change is not like chicken pox where if you acquired one, the possibilities of never having it again are high. But again, change is not like chicken pox. I don’t know what happened, though it felt forever. It just fell apart. And I felt numbness. I guess we grew up, but we grew apart. He changed. Maybe I did too. And then it started hurting. It was like someone had suctioned out my insides with a vacuum in one swift move. It was the longest month, with a piece of me missing. And all the time my throat is burning, but I held back. I’m strong. I will not cry. But as long as I avoid it, the more it gets me. It’s literally as people describe it, it hits in waves, so it’s like walking along being calm, pretending,  accepting it, and then being hit by a tidal wave...you can't breathe, you feel disorientated, faint, hurt, lost for a second. Then you get back up again. “You really did love him, huh?” My sister said. “I did” I said, holding back my tears. “I..” I will not cry. If only we have that ‘second chance.’ “I loved him”  Maybe we do, but when? “I still do” And it happened. She held me. And I poured it all out.                   I shook my head. Back to the present. I watched the girl as she slid down the slide again but she lost her balance when she reached the earth. Everyone falls. No exceptions. Maybe it was how God has laid our life. To learn more. To appreciate more. To learn how to get up again. So we will be prepared for the worst and we will be much stronger than ever. Because sometimes, the future is terrifying. But I don’t have to be afraid anymore. I stood up, my back aching, to help her. But someone got there first. He knelt to the ground and made her smile. The girl laughed, maybe he said something funny. I just stood there. The girl looked at me, “Granny, Granpa said we can have Ice cream later.” I smiled. This was my destiny. The man looked at me. The same man I met from the internet, where love can be mostly untrue. But he IS my destiny, my epic love, my soul mate, my forever and with him I found the truth. I chose to be his, he chose to be mine. And I’m happy with my choices. “Okay honey” I said sweetly to our granddaughter.   ‘True love comes in many ways’ indeed.   He smiled.   -------------- Still an old one :( Posting this first because I'm still not over with my mental block. 😱😱😱 Any tips to overcome this?

[francesshara]

This is about my ex-boyfriend. Actually, this is the first time i’ll publish this piece because I’m afraid that he might read it.

Here’s a few history:

I wrote this when we were in a relationship with completely different people. We still correspond through texts that time. One night, in the middle of this normal conversation, he brought up how weird our relationship is. Like how we know each other for almost four years that time, and we have this separate life, and still be friends. Then he said: “Hey, you’re a writer right? Why don’t you write about it?”

And so I did. And up until now, he hasn’t read this. I don’t want him to. And so here it is.

Title: Our Song

I’ve got my earphones on, my music’s in shuffle, and then I closed my eyes. It seems that I’m in my private bubble again, humming the poetry I hear. Then came the next track and I felt my bubble lighten. Every line feels like a ghost of you but I don’t want it to stop. I sighed. Nothing has changed. It still digs up those memories I have quite forgotten. Like how you said my name, and made it sound special. The sound of your laugh when I said something silly. How we laughed while listening to our favourite station every night and how our hearts cried when we heard the sad songs right after. How your hand maneuvered the keyboard as you teach me your favourite game. How your grip tightened whenever it was intertwined with mine.

Our song continues to play, the vocalist sings the first chorus, and I felt that I’m drifting away. Back to the time when you held me as I cried. It was the time when you hugged me, and I smiled. Your words sounded like a promise for better days ahead. It was also the time when we experienced a comfortable silence that drove your nerves to kiss me, and drove mine to kiss you back. And God, it was wonderful. 

Oh how I would love to go back.

- To the time when you finally said it, those three words that encompasses all the finest poetry in the word, and how happy you were when I said it back. 

-To the feeling of pure happiness you brought, as I look forward for the days and feel excited knowing that we’ll see each other again.

- To the happy memories we created every passing day.

- To the time when we were so young and wild. Your kisses were so unforgettable. You always start kissing my forehead, then the top of my nose, my cheeks, my chin, and lastly, my lips. Softly, then not. Then I would move my hand at the back of your neck to caress it and pull you much closer to me because I know how much it turns you on.

-To the time I kept on collecting food and cinema receipts, the wrapper of the ice cream we ate, and those mementos you gave. Because it was a proof that I was not dreaming, that the day happened, that you’re still by my side.

And then the bridge of the song came, the realizations crept in, and my bubble started to fall. You broke my heart when you admitted you still love your first so I broke yours by setting you free and broke it more every year the heaven made way for us to meet again. I stepped on every chance carelessly, not knowing that I’ll regret it someday. Now for example.

Then you met another girl and you fell in love once more. I know this is another song. Another track I am not part of. Another song that both of you only knows. And I know that someday, when she broke your heart. It is not I, that you want back but it is her. Because that is how you love. I know because I experienced it at least thrice but now my song has ended.

It is saddening that what’s left of you for mine to cry are just memories, words that ends up with ‘d’ or ‘ed’, and this song. And no matter how many times I rewind our track, you are not coming back. And though, it gives me nothing but flashbacks, I will keep trying. I am putting our song into repeat, to at least feel you once more, even if you are just a memory, a ghost from three years ago.

— Finished: 06/08/15 2:08 AM

- - -

You played our song for another time, Til you wore your ears and retire, Then you played another song again, I guess I’ll be moving on then.

04/18/16

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We do not correspond now. He has this new love, and I’m happy and single. I consider him as my great love though. He was that one person I kept on coming back heartbreak after heartbreak. Idk why.

I decided to publish this because I think I moved on, and it’s a great piece for me, so, why not share this to the world?