다비치 - 괜찮아 사랑이야
I feel permanent about you. I don’t know how else can I express this better, than to live my entire life with you.
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다비치 - 괜찮아 사랑이야
I feel permanent about you. I don’t know how else can I express this better, than to live my entire life with you.
Tell me it is okay
Sometimes we love a little too much, and we show a little too little. Sometimes we show a little too much, but we love a little too little. Don’t you think so?
A person matters more than a place
I wish you could be more honest, not just with me, but more with yourself. Let yourself associate how you truly feel, then we shall communicate on a whole new level. Because bridging this distance between us, have much more to do with ourselves, than to do with each other.
Woman Like A Man
The entirety of your being, including your selflessness.
Elevation
You’re addicted to love, and I’m addicted to the lack of it. Probably the only form of perfection between us.
Battle of the Will
I remember how I prayed so badly to receive a letter, or some form of hope from you when I was going through my first ever field camp. Not that it was particularly tough, but I thought, just perhaps, you might just want to write something to me. I wouldn’t deny that I secretly still hope for it. Just a couple more days to my final field camp, and this thought came along. I’ve written so many things about you, not that I’ve showed you any of them, and you even asked if I write about you at all.
Flames to Dust
So many words that I’ve typed and backspaced; all the way till the end. I’ve not forgotten how to write, but I’ve lost touch on how to feel. The only thing that is keeping me in tact is this constant will to outlast and to ultimately out-win. But what is the point of being the best, the first, the champion, the leader, to stand at the top of the very mountain, the peak of the pinnacle, when the recognition I sought most after wasn’t here to begin with? Honestly, I’m thankful for the remnants of your presence being the source of motivation for me to pull through. Maybe, after so long of saying how much of a realist I am, I still go back to being someone who daydreams a lot. I return back to the past - our past, when I woke up with a fire in me. This burning desire to want to live my life with this special someone: you. I yearn for the times we were together, but not like this; not now, and never will be ever. Simply said; you’re like a childhood memory that will always be a part of me, but since then; you’ll always be apart from me. Careful, for she is a girl who loves like fire. She keeps you warm, especially on a cold winter night. But she probably needs you more than you need her; like how she is a reaction to how you’re her oxygen.
Guilty Crown
If you were able to draw out my Void - my inner psyche taking physical form, one that is said to reflect my fear and complexes; what would it be?
Twist and Shout
What is the cost of humanity?
Sheer
Let’s meet up sometime, shall we?
Bona Fide
There was a time, I was fearless. Or at least, I felt like it. I wouldn’t care less of the consequences or ramifications. I felt like I was on top of the world. I had different pieces of the puzzle pieced together and everything was aligned. Life was good. Or at least, it felt like it. Maybe that is what some would call - driven. Or others would deny how the act of bravery under the circumstances of the unknown is naive. For what it is worth, a past will always be the past. Fast forward; now I look for something deeper. It might be obscure to some, or even irrelevant to others; but it matters to me. Competency - in ways that one is able to manage adversity through means they know how. Pain - in ways that one is able to accept torment for what it is. Introversion - in ways that one understands how self-care is equally as important as being selfless. Some say attractiveness is merely a binary of complimentary shades of traits that fit the accustomed one, but what if your black differs from my black and your white varies from my white; how wrong are we from being right? From what I know, we fit each other just like a jigsaw puzzle, but from the beginning; your picture might have already clashed with mine.
Control
Half truth, deceit or whatever you want to call it; just one of the many ways of manipulation. Words, actions or whatever you want to call it; are some of the many tools of manipulation. Feelings, emotions or whatever you want to call it; simply are one kind of manipulation. Let this piece of writing be under no form of influence, leverage or manipulation. I miss you. And that is probably as honest as I can get. I am not going to write about the moon, the sky or the sea. I am going to write about me. I am going to write about you. Let me just start off with - I don’t know where to begin, or when to end. Where is the social utility for a love that might have possibly died? You see, you taught me a lot; in ways that you may or may not know. From time to time, I see remnants of you. I see how people sees things in a different manner, and it flashes across my mind like how you would do it. I see the various eventualities should you step in. I see you, even though I don’t. Writing has always been my nature. And it stems, as cliché as this may sound, from the bottom of my heart. But what if, my heart has been a bottomless pit? Am I void of love? Pain? Feelings? You see, writing reflects so much on someone. From the way that they write, to the way it is written to whom it is written for. I miss you - in the exact way I want to write, in the exact way it is written and how it is written to you. And I love you - in the exact way I want to write, but not how it should be written or how it is written to you.
Alpha Male
Once Bitten, Twice Shy.
Checkmate
Because, you were the root of my emotions. And it has stayed this way; even till now. And I finally understand the way I wrote about you. Not that it matters now.
Right. Like, really right.
'Write. Like, really write. Not because you want to, but I want you to. Not because you need to, but I need you to. Not because you care, but I do. If that is not enough of a reason for you to start writing again, I don't know what is.'
Only Hardened Hearts Break
It is interesting to think about how we make people who used to be everything into nothing again. How we learn to forget. How we force forgetting. What we put in place of them in the interim. The dynamics afterward always tell you more than what the relationship did — grief is a faster teacher than joy – but what does it mean when you cycle out to being strangers again? Because you never really stop knowing each other in that way. Maybe there is no choice, but to make them someone different in your mind, not the person who knew your daily anxieties and what you looked like naked and what made you cry and how much you loved them.
When our lives revolve around someone, they don’t just stop revolving around them even if all that is left is the grief and pain that comes with their memory. Because you loved them, there will always be parts of them that linger. The memories that are impressed on the places you went and the things you said and the songs you listened to will remain. We all eventually find ourselves standing in the checkout line, hearing one of those songs come on and realizing that all of a sudden, we’re revolving around them again. And maybe we never stopped.
Do you ever really forget your lovers’ birthdays, or all your first times, intimate and not? Are the things you did and promise you made ever really neutralized? Do they become void now that you’re broken up or do you decidedly ignore them because there is simply no other choice? The mind tells you to go on, and forces your heart to follow suit.
I’m of the idea that you either love someone, in some way, forever, or you never really loved them at all. That once two reactive chemicals cross both are changed. That the wounds we leave in people are sometimes too raw to risk falling back into them. I don’t want to believe that we write each other off, because we simply don’t matter anymore. I know love isn’t expendable. I wonder, and maybe hope, if we ever just force it to be out of that necessity.
Maybe it is just that we’re all at the centers of our own little universes, and sometimes they overlap with other people’s, and that small bit of intersection leaves some part of it changed; that is where we grow together. The collision can wreck us, change us, shift us; sometimes we become eternally undetachable and connected and other times, we decidedly move away, because the change required accepting another person’s universe colliding with yours is a safety we don’t want to leave. Either way, it is inevitable that your universe expands. That you’re left knowing that much more about love and what it can do, and the pain that only a hole in your heart can bring. Whether or not that hole will ever again include the person who made it that way, that is for you to decide.
It is interesting how afterwards, we realize that the storm returns to calm, but the stars are always changed and we don’t choose whose collisions change us. We all start as strangers, but we often forget that we choose who ends up a stranger too.
Doleful
He may not be my ideal, but he has got qualities, values, and a character that I most definitely adore. Because he makes me feel comfortable and he keeps me grounded to an extent. He lets me realize that perspective is not something everyone can possess to see beneath the surface and he gave me a lot to realize - that he, charming, cannot be trusted. 'Cause they leave. And he just made it true enough for me, so the easiest way out is to also leave.