[misplaced-empathies]

last night, i dreamt of people i once loved without restriction. yknow, the kind of fearless, reckless love that makes you feel like you can take on the world if only the other was by your side.

i hate those kinds of dreams now. the mornings after always feel so hollow, as if i’d lost everything all over again. i wonder why these dreams bring me back to happier days when i know the reality and naïveté lurking behind those memories.

specific feelings like sleeping in another’s arms, the feel of their gaze, the taste of their lips, it’s all so ridiculous now that i’m writing it down. it’s cliche, but i don’t believe those feelings anymore.

once upon a time, but never again.

[misplaced-empathies]

ah, i see what it is now. i’ve made myself foreign from the living world once again, but there’s nothing tempting me to go back. i’ve disconnected myself from others, even the ones i still claim as friends. the world is tiring and complicated. i don’t have any answers for all the questions they ask. i shut off my heart, but it sounds more pitiful than it feels. things are okay like this, because whenever i see those who bring back memories, the confusion i’ve ignored this past year comes rushing towards me all at once.

i don’t want to think about the future. i don’t want to think about the past. i don’t even want to think about the present. i want to lose myself in distractions for as long as i can before the consequences come for me. the rest of the world is waiting to press ‘resume’ even if it looks nothing like the reality they were living before the pandemic. and even though i’ve been saying that i’m waiting too, my world crumbled before they sent us all into self isolation. i don’t have a life to return to. the one i was building fell apart right before the world did.

so i don’t care if i’ve disconnected with the rest of the world. there’s no one attaching me to it anymore.

the people wondering where i went will get over my social disappearance and whenever i come back, we’ll just have to meet again as different people.

[neckkiss]

“I think part of the reason why we hold so tight is because we fear something so great won’t happen twice”

— unknown (via hatin)

[misplaced-empathies]

it’s hard to figure out which parts i need to let go and which parts i’m allowed to hold onto.

from beginning to end, and even all the time since then til now, whatever rules, suggestions, and recommendations should’ve existed have never applied to what we were in the slightest.

rules were broken before they even settled into place, suggestions came no further than only being ‘close to consideration’, and any observers’ wild speculation could never compare to what it was in reality. because though there were boundaries drawn, the truth has always been out of reach, and the real identity of the phenomenon being experienced was beyond even our comprehension as the two subjects involved.

it’s hard to ask what else could’ve been, because what it had been wasn’t supposed to be in the first place. which makes everything all the more difficult to let go of and leave behind.

put simply,

i fear letting go not only because i’m afraid something so great won’t happen twice, but also because it wasn’t even supposed to happen the first time at all.

[misplaced-empathies]

to think that there are those who’ve gotten close enough to know my body up and down, to know me inside and out, to have seen the chaotic way in which i make my way through the world up close and personal,

the idea of such people existing seems so foreign now that there are none who can say they understand me anymore.

those who knew me then don’t really know me now and those that know me now know little of what i was like then. of these two parts that make my current whole, there are few i’ve bothered to explain myself to, and fewer who understood where i was coming from.

past leads to present and present leads to future; at the end of this train of thought, the boundaries between those three segments of time are as pointless as drawing the line between night and day to me.

is it bad that this phenomenon doesn’t bother me in the slightest? that though living in the outside world feels as if i’m staring from behind a pane of glass, i’m more content with being a spectator than a participant?

i haven’t felt lonely or pitiful or desolate. i no longer yearn for the things i used to. i’m still in love with the idea of love, but i’ve learned to deeply loathe all that it can bring. i’ve taken the gamble a couple times before, and needless to say, i firmly believe that my perspective of the world permanently changed after each fallout. they say that you should never meet your heroes, but i didn’t think the same line of caution should’ve been applied to dreams and concepts as well.

none of this is to say i won’t ever take that gamble again, because no offer will ever be the same. so despite the fact that my heart has taken on a less reactive shape and form, if the time comes i won’t stop myself from going after what i want. it’s just that i felt i needed to put into words why i feel the chance may never come again.

[misplaced-empathies]

how brittle bonds can be, seeming so strong and sturdy on the outside only to crumble to dust under the slightest of pressures. but i won’t let you know that. don’t touch, just look, and remember how you described me;

a being who lives in a different world than you, drifting further every time you feel as if you’re getting closer, yet always out of reach. in a good way, you said. it’s appreciation more than anything, you said. like the amazement a kid feels when looking through a telescope for the first time.

i stay out of reach, not because i’m teasing, but because i haven’t bothered to look back. but keep reaching if you want; you know how you’ll never get close enough to become to me what i am to you.

i fall for the bad guys, knowing they’ll break my heart; i fall on the good guys, knowing they’ll break my fall.

in the end, i stay stuck somewhere in between, forever repeating the cycle in the worst part of the love triangle regardless of who sits in the other corners. the cycle of love for the damaged and irreparable. nothing changes until we change it ourselves.

[misplaced-empathies]

i lost all faith in humanity two months before the end of 2019

[misplaced-empathies]

i was drunk when he asked if we could ever happen, if i’d changed my mind, but even in that state i knew i couldn’t love him the way he loved me. he told me that through his eyes, he saw me as some far away entity, something that might be unreachable, something that never fails to drift away every time he felt like he was getting closer, but in a good sense. he looked at me with the same bewildered amazement as a child looking through a telescope for the first time.

i never liked quiet boys, the ones captivated by but deeply afraid of the world beyond the confines of their comfort, the ones who looked at me with wonder in their eyes, like i would be the one to save them from their empty existences. a friend once told me that those who fell in love with me always fell hard. and it was this fact that made it impossible for me to love them back. men like that offer no challenge, no opportunity for me to grow.

i want to be happy, but the truth is that i’m a bitter, vain and angry person. no quiet, shy, reserved man is ever going to be able to tame someone like that. this isn’t saying that i need someone to dominate me entirely, that’s a whole other set of problems on its own, but i need someone like me. someone who can be soft when they need to be and stand their ground if the time ever calls for it. i need someone with drive and spirit, an energy to match mine perfectly. i need someone who i want to become a better person for, and who feels they’d want to do the same for me. i won’t settle for any less.

i’m not desperate to be complimented, or loved or showered with affection. it might sound cruel, but if it doesn’t come from the right person, i don’t care for it at all.

[seeping-secrets]

i sleep on your side of the bed when you don’t come home for the night even though i’m really a dumbass bitch for missing you like i do; it do b like that sometimes

[misplaced-empathies]

i stopped doing this after we were quarantined, now i just avoid the room altogether. it’s hard to sleep with all your things around me.

[misplaced-empathies]

by the end of my time there, it wasn’t even my room anymore. all semblance of my stay and my ownership was wiped clean for the next girl to make a home there.

[misplaced-empathies]

i feel like a stranger here, my home city, though it holds the streets, buildings, and community that bred and raised me. for 15 years, i knew little of what lay beyond my own territory; even now, i seem to have stumbled upon the same dilemma that’s been plaguing philosophers for so long, knowing just enough to realize how little i actually know, how small my pool of knowledge is compared to what i’ve learned the world can be.

i used to fantasize about traveling the world, seeing cities and countries that seem alien to everything i know now, somewhere across not only state or country borders, but also further out across oceans into other continents. i get a taste of what it feels like to be that free every now and then, and when i do, i can’t help but reminisce on all the things i missed about home.

therein lay my current predicament. i spent over half a year away from home, culled another life somewhere across the planet, began to fantasize about san francisco the same way i used to with foreign cities. now, it feels strange but not in a bad way. it feels like seeing an old friend after ages apart, like forgetting how to do something after not doing it for too long, like the thin layer of dust that settles on tabletops when they’re left unused.

i haven’t had the chance to reintroduce myself to my city again, but it will always be that, my city. i don’t really talk about it much, but i’ve brought outsiders here to temporarily share the life i’ve been living and i’m proud each time they recount the memories they made while here with such warmth.

i used to always yearn to see and experience the world beyond my city limits; i still do. but i know i’ll always miss home and i’ll always come back. sometimes, it takes leaving something behind to see how much it meant to you. distance makes the heart grow fonder, or so they used to say.

[misplaced-empathies]

we should know the kind of people we want to keep around us, who we think is worth the effort and energy. tomorrow is not a guarantee, so why waste our time on people who serve no positive role in our lives? why use the energy to keep up with people who don’t make us feel safe, supported, and loved?

i’ve dropped friends in the past because they, sometimes of no fault of their own, exhausted me every time we were together. i got emotionally tired, and the people who did consciously love and support me didn’t get what they deserved from me. i decided after graduation that i would distance myself from anyone who made me feel that way again. if i don’t trust you, what the hell am i doing trying so hard to maintain our relationship?

i lost sight of myself somewhere along the way, and though i’ve gone looking, i have to ask now if i’m potentially not meant to find her. maybe i need to become someone better, someone who knows what comes next.

there’s limited space in my heart; when i love, i do it fiercely and desperately. i can’t keep up with treating outliers with the same passion as i do with my closest friends and family members. i’m not going to tear myself apart for that, not anymore.

[misplaced-empathies]

a week before i was due to leave, i started feeling ill, just generally speaking, headaches, nausea, dizziness. i thought it would pass, but even now i spend my days in this half living haze.

i’ve been thinking about it, about what could be wrong because i’ve dropped all my bad habits and it still lingers. i’m starting to wonder to myself if it’s psychosomatic, if my sadness, fear, and hurt are manifesting in my body.

i don’t know how i should be taking this, but with no options for distraction or escape right now, i’m more unreactive than i thought i’d be. i’ve been spending my days completely detached, waiting for time to pass, not really living lately. but every now and then i see something, remember everything, and suddenly my chest tightens, my eyes sting, and my ruse breaks for just a second long enough to register the sorrow.

i always bring myself back to that empty, detached space right after, reign everything back in like patching cracks in a near bursting dam. my heart hurts too much to dwell on what’s happened and i’m going to be isolated and alone for a while longer. if i stop and think about it too long, it’ll eat me alive.

already, i’ve been living on another floor of my house, watching my family stand 6ft away from me whenever they come down, masked and cautious like i’ve become some kind of plague. i’ve had to speak with friends through a metal gate when they’ve dropped by to welcome me home like i’ve become some kind of prisoner. there’s no one to hold me, to hug me, to comfort me, so if i stop and think about it too long, i’ll be dismantled brick by brick and eaten alive. but i’m afraid that if i hold this sorrow and pain within my heart too long, it’ll rot me from inside out.

[misplaced-empathies]

he asked me if i ever felt at home when i was in london, and it took me longer than i expected to answer properly.

i find homes in people, but not just any and every person. i make homes in people who make me feel safe, when i was a child it was my mother, when i was a teenager it was my friends, and now? i don’t know where i moved before this, but as of now i’m homeless.

i first went to london last october with a home in mind, but very quickly, i found myself thrown out into the cold, dreary london winter. it took me a while but i started finding small places of sanctuary through the rest of my time there. but it was more like couch surfing or hotel hopping in the sense of that metaphor.

[misplaced-empathies]

from familiarity to longing:

my brain made a specific neural pathway that only fires when you’re around and it hasn’t been used in a while, so it’s not getting the neurotransmitters it was expecting to get. now, my brain chemicals have been thrown off balance and i need you to come back in order to find equilibrium again.

[seeping-secrets]

fuck. i tried to cry like i did before that night, but nothing came out. i’m getting hugs and words of comfort from friends i made here but the rips in my heart stand unaffected. the empathy targeted at me is too slippery to hold onto.

i’m afraid there’s nothing left for you to find ‘forgiveness’ in but a shell of the person you once fell in love with so many years ago.

[misplaced-empathies]

no city has ever given me a space to call my own. not SF, not LA, not LDN. where can i find what i’m looking for? every pair of arms i thought would shelter me failed to provide the comfort i was looking for, every ‘home’ i thought i’d found ended up crumbling to dust around me. my own illusions of what i wanted love to be swallowed me whole.

if it were only one person i could write it off, but person after person, friend after friend, have confronted me about the choices i’m making, telling me how much they’re hurting in my place. i may be hurting, but i know i have no right to. i can’t show weakness regardless of how much i may or may not need to. it’s a stupid irrational sense of saving face, something instilled into me by my culture.

i know what emotional dissociation is, you fucking cunt. how do you think i made it this far? the only reason you don’t think i know, is because i made the idiotic, foolish choice of trusting you with the most vulnerable, sensitive parts of me. you saw me in a way nobody else did. sorry, but i need to stop for my own sake.

[misplaced-empathies]

from 2013-2017, i learned to lie with not just my words, but my face, my body, every nuance that tagged a person’s individuality in the eyes of anyone who bothered to look beyond the surface of strangers. i survived off those lies; and though i don’t need them now, i still use them as second nature, backtracking only to explain to anyone who not only knows me too well, but is as willing to call me out to my face.

[misplaced-empathies]

laughter like cobwebs strung around a house a i used to dwell, sticky and thick, wrapping my every limb, taunting my every waking hour. sleep doesn’t bring rest, but only memories of a feign and tampered version of life as i wish it to be. both make my heart hurt, but standing alongside your doppelgänger in my dreams, holding me so gently, loving me like no one else, just like you use to be with me, is so much better than facing the reality everyday that he doesn’t exist anymore.

i guess, last night, i was looking forward to sleeping forever, if just so i could die happy in my dreams. it’s a sense of escape from a pain i’ve never felt, a pain i never wish to feel again. i tried numbing myself, but i guess i just managed to magnify the storm of feelings wrecking me inside. the fresh cuts on my thighs stinging me every stride i take, the scratches and bruises upon my face, the blotches of back and blue on my knees and arms, they help me forget that you ever brushed your fingers across my skin, laid your lips up on my flesh, whispered heavenly promises into my ear.

i now look as i feel inside, and it’s both freezing up and burning down at the same time. how i look now, is a pure reflection of the pain, sorrow, envy, and emptiness i’ve been feeling the past month.

you are no longer the boy i fell in love with, and i guess, last night, i killed the girl you did.

now we can both move on as new.