Treasurebox

Messy thoughts; exercise caution.

[mrnhlikestea]

Is it not disappointing? That after all you’ve been through, your mind, your body, your soul is aching to inch away from this place, but your heart, oh your heart, it wants nothing else but to stay. In the comfort of sadness, in the depths of loneliness, swimming in the confusion of unrequited love, wondering, always wondering, why it is that a love that once burned so brightly but left you dead in the forest is the same love that you cannot seem to part with.

[mrnhlikestea]

And in the end, it’s about accepting that your presence in their life didn’t carry a lot of significance, that you are disposable, and that wherever you go though you may carry them with you, the same cannot be said by them.

[mrnhlikestea]

I loved in oceans

Vast and endless, in clear blue

Pouring poetry

[mrnhlikestea]

I loved him in poetry

In long hikes and cups of coffee

In morning smiles and moonlit streets

I loved him in thoughtful gifts

In warm clothes and homemade food

In quiet drives and guessing games

I loved him in household chores

In cooking nights and movie marathons

In playful conversation and inside jokes

I loved him in live music

In scenic views and painted rooms

In sudden laughter and unfinished thoughts

I loved him in the ordinary

The mundane, the special, all the in-between

I love him in endless poetry

Long lists of gratification

And handwritten cards

But he loved in temporary exclamation marks

Lust and adrenaline and inconsistencies

And breaking what’s already fragile is so easy to do

When you’re breaking a hopeless romantic

[mrnhlikestea]

I walked by where we stood in 2023 in the warm summer sun, looking for things we didn't need. I was transported back to a time when I looked at you with wonder in my eyes and you looked back with softness. I want so much to remember the kindness, your kindness, but like a barbed wire fence, I'm standing on the other side looking ahead in sadness, knowing I can't reach the other side without injuring myself.

I'm here, right here, wondering why your indifference had no limits, wondering why cruelty came so easily to you, wondering, just wondering. And my stomach drops in ripples remembering the warmth of our yesterdays, until I'm reminded of the abandonment, the forced isolation, the constant whirlwind of pain, until I'm reminded of who you are.

[mrnhlikestea]

So close in distance yet plagued by fear of indifference.

[mrnhlikestea]

Empty words and empty promises. Like shiny marbles I collect them in jars on shelves I built with scarred hands. On funeral days like this I count them as I’m reminded of the dark room I suffered in. I count them as I ask for kindness and grace. I count them as I continue to struggle in this search for peace.

They wander in the palm of my hand, shielding the cruelty from my need for honesty, stuck in pretend, stuck in pleasing, stuck in insecurity. My heavy eyes look at them in wonder, asking to end this warring silence and give me a shred of compassion.

But I’m screaming at the ghosts of my yesterdays, soulless and indifferent. So I continue to count the marbles, I let them get close to me, but never close enough for me to forgive.

[mrnhlikestea]

Searching for parallels in stories from strangers; I want to understand and be understood. And I know I’m neither the first nor the last to feel like depression is brewing inside me.

I flip through the photo album in my mind of scenes from a dinner before everything became ruins. I see the laughter, I hear the music playing through the speaker, I see the subtle judgment towards my glass filled with a drink that isn’t real enough, I cherish the smiles, I let the small legs jumping up and down excite me to my core as I am dressed in an outfit I chose for the occasion, my eyes wide at the sight of a beautiful spread, I am in love with the warmth and most of all, I love the people creating the warmth.

Now the weather forecast is labelled a liar as it rains all the time from the layers of sadness I’m shedding but don’t seem to be running out of. I want to get back to the scenes in the album, I want to be seated for dinner.

But it slips through my hands. And it was never mine to hold onto. And the seat is taken. And the food is running out. And the clock keeps ticking but I’m standing still in puddles I created. And I am enveloped in sadness but I swear I can cough up a smile if asked.

I was only ever a guest. And my invite has since been rescinded.

[mrnhlikestea]

Why did you have to go and take away everything I fell in love with?

[terrorignitis]

Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction

[mrnhlikestea]

I want to fast forward these bone-breaking, soul-crushing days.

[mrnhlikestea]

My eyes are tired from staying awake. It’s not even late. I roam through the hallways of my mind and stumble upon a phonebook with only one person’s number. I wrap myself in my blanket, staring at a pile of books and an empty suitcase. I’m fighting the urge to call someone who doesn’t care, when I shouldn’t have to because the answer is sitting there.

And in every character that wears betrayal on his sleeve I see a person I once knew, in every character that presented a false truth I see a person I once knew, in every character that disguised lies I see a person I once knew, in every character that chose to hurt I see a person I once knew. And they’re all the same person. Sitting in a phonebook in my mind. I imagine an insincere hello and fear of discomfort enveloping the conversation, irritating my need for truth and genuine connection.

People disappoint you so deeply; they’ll watch you drown and save their clothes from the fast moving water, watching your body struggle even more by the minute until eventually you’re out of sight, giving them permission to walk away without regret, without memory, without reminders that you could’ve been saved.

Because who are you but just another used line in their phonebook.

[mrnhlikestea]

Did you find all that you're searching for? Shallow was the talk, and you want to feel more Trace your way back, walking down that wire Healing was the spark in a wildfire

[mrnhlikestea]

I give up. I give up. I give up.

[addzeysatticofasinine]

[mrnhlikestea]

I’m so incredibly tired of carrying this sadness that weighs more than anything else.

[sighsaftermidnight]

I spent so long trying to understand what love was supposed to feel like. I looked for it in fleeting warmth, in almosts, in the quiet attention of people who were never really staying. I kept convincing myself that whatever they offered must be enough, because I had nothing else to measure it against. I thought love was the way my chest tightened when someone pulled away, or the ache that followed every unanswered message. I mistook longing for devotion, and silence for mystery, and empty space for destiny.

It took losing what I hoped was love to finally understand what it wasn’t.

It wasn’t indifference dressed up as softness.

It wasn’t inconsistency framed as complexity.

It wasn’t the way someone made me feel small while calling it care.

Only when I stood in the wreckage of what almost was did the truth finally reveal itself.

Love wasn’t the ache I kept chasing.

It wasn’t the uncertainty I tried to romanticize.

It wasn’t the feeling of holding my breath, waiting for someone to decide if I was worth the effort.

I did not know what love was until the moment I realized what love was not.

And in that quiet, painful clarity, I understood that everything I had accepted before had been a lesson, not a home.