Dewrder

There are far more greater thing than just pain and misery. At least, that's what I want to think. That's what I hope for when I wake up.

[vexheart]

This

[nixscriptum]

[see-me-blackhearted]

3:51 PM

I don't think I can do this.

This day is one good example of those kinds of days when you just want the water to swallow you whole and instead of swimming further, you'd opt to let the current pull you down.

There's this feeling in my stomach that I'm not sure I'd be able to take out.

Anxiety.

This fucking crippling anxiety that turns my insides, makes me lightheaded, and just grabs my chest breaking off each ribcage as if not breathing is not hard enough. I'd need to hear the breaking and the pull wrecking me whole without grace nor without remorse.

I don't think I can do this.

I feel myself screaming on the inside and just internalizing all the pain all at once. Scared that if I close my eyes at night, I would see him. I would fantasize him and I would hate myself for it. All self-respect gone every night.

I don't think I can do this.

Pretend that I'm okay and I'm carrying it on. I don't know if I am. I don't know if I can carry it further. It feels like I'm being stretched far apart and I feel like there are two hands holding my neck, wanting to snap it further. The feeling when I can't even scratch those hands holding me but only close my eyes and just wishing it would be over with. I let it. I let it rip me. I let it snap my neck. I let those hands break my ribcage repeatedly. I just let it in.

I don't think I can do this.

I feel like someone is holding me with the intention of breaking my bones and tearing my limbs. A puncture on the chest and another on my spine. Breaking me apart. Moreso, letting me lose the ability to breathe. I can feel myself leaving my body and just feeling as though I am not enough. That even the act of dying and leaving the conscious world is not enough. I would need to relive everything again.

Just. like. him.

I kept wanting. I kept wishing. I kept going back to that fucking alley. Near the school. With no people. Under the full moon. Just us. Looking at each other, holding each other's breath and connecting. Feeling each other's lips and then crashing it altogether. Treading slowly and then carrying the sensation further and further. Until my back hits the wall and I'm not even bothered by how cold it is. In fact, it wasn't. It was blazing hot. The warmth and intensity. The spontaneity got me restless and taken aback. It was reeling me in and I want to leap. I want to jump into nothingness with no care, not giving a fuck about my fear of heights. I grab him. I keep him close and his hands are on my back. Bare skinned. Pulling me close and tugging my top as if wanting to just rip it apart. Like how this rips me apart. How I can't understand why I can't fucking forget him. Why I can't move on. Of all people. Of all fucking men.

Why him?

Months passed and I'm still back at the alley. I can feel his breath and his hand on my head when it touches the wall. Providing comfort, providing safety for me not to get hurt. For me not to confuse pain for pleasure and to ensure everything is pleasurable instead.

I fucking hate him. I change my mind. I loathe him. Withe every fiber in my being and with every cell in me.

I hate how I'm attached. How I can't forget. How I can't let go.

Why?

Perhaps because the gentleness of his aura steadies me. That after all the trauma, the heartbreak, the violence, the calloused experiences, I am met with kindness. With care. A feeling so foreign that I can't help but feel nauseous.

Those nights. Those moments. I want to forget it. Those laughs and giggles. Those hands and fingers caressing me whole, I want to forget it all. Nothing is more deadly than a person introducing you to warmth. To hope and crushing it into pieces. Reminding you that the world is not kind to anyone and that anyone can betray anyone.

Who betrayed who?

Fuck.

I'm stuck reminiscing. I'm stuck just imagining. Just craving. Just hoping. And battling with myself. That this is wrong. That this is not for me. That this is not what I want it to be. I want to be free. I want to live boldly and love loudly. I don't want to be kept hidden. To be a farce. Was it really real to him? Perhaps he was just curious. Delusional. Perhaps he already knew when we met that it would not last. That this is a dallying type of relationship. That I am only for a good time never intended for long.

God I can't do this. I don't think I can do this.

I don't think I can recover. I don't think I can think straight. How insanely comedic this situation is for me. I am not this kind of girl. I know what my priorities are and I know where I stand. He is far from my pacing. Just another hurdle. A puddle I wasn't able to jump away from. A distraction. A tick that I could not get off my skin.

I'm surprised how I moved on quickly from my ex but never from this stranger I only met a couple of days. Slept with for a few days. Jesus. Not even fucking 2 guys got him out of my system. All it left was pure sadness and hollowness. Reeling back to him. Wondering what he might be doing while I was doing my very best washing him away from me.

All of him.

And yet, remnants of him continue to plunge in. Deep. A mockery it is that I hear from friends. How I was able to let some British guy capture my interest until this day.

Aside from the unwavering demise of my future, I can't help but just want to get away.

Alone and be free.

[see-me-blackhearted]

9:03 AM

Currently in Hong Kong International Airport on my way to Taipei. I don‘t what it is with airports that I keep thinking about him. Or maybe the general vibe everytime I travel. Perhaps the fact that he was such a memorable “organic” encounter (as if I didn’t forced myself into his space that night lol). I honestly don’t know how to deal with these emotions. I keep finding ways on just forgetting and moving on but fuck I ruminate too well. But much of my thoughts would be asking if he feels the same way. Does he think about me often? Are there times where he would remember what happened between us? At random times, does he get this weird sudden flashbacks that night at Spirits Library? That alley where we decided to seal it with a kiss?

Fuck me.

I’m losing my shit over some dude. Or maybe he wasn’t just “some” dude, was he?

Well I don’t know. I already thought of ways to cope with these emotions. Slept with other people, got back to swimming, drowned in work, decided to travel as much as I can. And yet I’m still here at Hong Kong International Airport, almost 2 months since we’ve last spoken, thinking about whether or not do I occupy his thoughts…

I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t know why this fucking stuck. Why he continue to stuck. Way more than my ex (gross).

Is this guilt I’m feeling? But no, I was upset. He wasn’t honest. He didn’t gave me clarity. What did he want? Did he want me? Or did he just wanted a woman he could meet up with while being in the country?

Should I have given him the benefit of the doubt? But those stories… him being with a lot of women in his travels… I don’t know how to make of it.

Was he really busy? Was there really no reception and yet he has the time to post stories???

Ugh. I sound like an insecure bitch.

I know deep down the choice was smart. Don’t risk it with someone who is unsure and can only give you crumbs.

Don’t get me started on the simultaneous likes he gives to random chicks on Instagram. Jesus. With the very provacative poses and pictures. What a horny ass prick.

Thinking about it, I could never forget how laughable it is. Me daydreaming and missing some fucking jerk while he just lives his life in complete joy.

The only way I’m coping with it is really living my best life. Glowing like a fucking ray of sunshine to make him realize what he had fumbled.

That son of a bitch.

I only hope to God that I bloom like a whole field of flowers on spring day. That I’ll be sexy and gorgeous as fuck he would be forced to unfollow me too. Because of the guilt. Because of the shame. Because of the breadcrumbing.

I’ll get through this. I’ve done it before, I’m gonna do it again.

Fuck that British bloke who can’t be consistent.

[lousolversons]

Sydney Adamu and Richie Jerimovich in Season 4 of THE BEAR

[museify]

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

This one goes both ways LOL!

[see-me-blackhearted]

13:30

I wish there was a way out of things. I wish there was an escape from reality. An escape from realizing you're part of dysfunctional, emotionally dysregulated family. I strive so much for perfection, I could not even get it through myself. I don't even wanna believe that I am perfect and that I can handle everything. Because as much as I want that to be true, I'm not.

I'm afraid.

I feel suffocated. I feel like I'm losing balance. I feel like I'm drowning.

I feel so stupid for even thinking that I would start anew and perhaps to just begin again.

I hate this.

I hate myself for just not being normal. For being so scathed with heartbreak that I just freeze at the opportunity that I may not get heartbroken again.

I just can't go back there. I need to trust what is in front of me. I want to demand more because I was given less.

I hope that in my next trip, I would understand better about self-love. About just wanting to be in solace in your own presence.

[see-me-blackhearted]

12:56 PM

I'm not sure if I'm delusional or just lonely but ever since that time when we parted or should I say, when I decided to conclude things, rumination hasn't not felt this magnified.

It's ridiculous to even think that in just a short span of meeting you, having a few conversations, being intimate for a few nights and just spending time with you for a few days here, it would be hard for me to move on from those memories compared to my fuck up of an ex for almost 2 years.

I wish that was not the case.

I wish it was just casual for me.

I wish I was not too heavily invested that I expected myself to be.

I feel pathetic. But the good news is, it's all within me and never did I took an impulsive decision to break the silence. Because I'm afraid I would forget. Forget why I decided to detach and why I needed to because I fear that if I cling on, I would forget about myself. About what I've been fighting for not to betray myself.

Now I'm paying for it.

The what-ifs. The possibility that you may have felt the same way but I could no longer find the proof of it. Even before, I could not. Just the memories and bad lines of communication that are too cryptic. Too lacking. As if some crumbs that I try so hard to catch.

I want to be over you. I really do. But I guess I am just like I-geon. Thinking that there may have been something in those time we were together. Something magical maybe or something real. The boundary of which I felt that was real and what I craved to be something more of a fantasy. A dream. A premonition. Perhaps fate disguised as serendipity.

If I would tell you exactly my thoughts are, I would begin it with the night we had our first kiss. The nervousness, the uncertainty to attempt and the willingness to take a leap. To touch and to be touched. It was slow. Careful. Teasing but the intention was clear-- to continue and to see where things would take us. To dance in the night where no one was watching and just hold on for one more minute.

It would sometimes begin when we would cuddle at night after dinner. When we would giggle and laugh of the most random things and then take another leap. Another attempt to see and risk. To hold each other because there is nothing else we would want to be doing but just be rolled under the sheets, trying to memorize each other's scent, voice, touch, and heat. How it's been a while since I would have sex with such emotion and vulnerability. With yearning and joy. How I would wish it didn't end. How I wish you didn't made me feel shit about myself. How you shouldn't been so friendly with the women you meet in vacation.

How I wish you would just come back to our little bubble and rest.

But I was met with reality. Something I was unsure of and continue to lack the reassurance, terrified me. I could no longer go back to that hole. And I fear that you would be pushing me through it. So I pulled away. I had to. I wanted to see if you would too.

And I can tell, you did. Without so much of a fight.

Just like what I expected. Nothing that was surprising.

Because we only met a few times. Kissed a few times. Embraced a few nights. And I would be a fool to even think that from those few moments, you would yearn the same way I would have. That you would have became braver to take a leap from a higher altitude.

I am afraid too. To try again after breaking apart repeatedly for so long.

And so I walk away from an unknown possibility.

I think from the end, we might have gotten something out of it-- a lesson, an opportunity, or a warning.

I can only wish you well and I can only cage my heart from pushing through because I would need proof. I would need not a fantasy but a promise. A manifestation that if I jump, you too would jump.

And so, I hope you do not reach back. I pray to the heavens that you will be an asshole. I pray to all the Gods above that I am right. That you do not feel the same way and that you will never do. Please don't make the attempt to get my hopes up. Do not even bother to risk or take a step forward.

Do not yearn for me. Do not even attempt. Do not reach back. Do not think of reaching back. Rather, just live well. Live as you are. Continue to put me out of this fantasy.

It was just one night.

Just a few kisses and a few laughter.

I will ruminate painfully until I'm set free. While you...

Please just forget.

And prove to me that I don't deserve you.

[furiousgoldfish]

abusive families are like, No the problem here is not all of the agressive and violent members of the family, nor the adults throwing tantrums and threats, or the family treating you like worthless piece of dirt. It is not the local pedophile nobody protects you from and it is not the sibling who tried to kill you several times.

The problem is that you sometimes say words we don't like and have an unpleasant face expression. And you show emotion of being hurt which how dare you. In fact all of the adult people's behaviour is the direct consequence of your actions, we all know adults behaviour is controlled by one scared child who sometimes dares to stand up to them. Be ashamed of making everyone act this way with your evil child powers!

[see-me-blackhearted]

23:01 pm

If I'm being perfectly honest, I want something real. I want something honest and something pure. I want something that will last because I know I deserve that. After everything. After everyone.

At this point, I love the fact that there is a world out there that I can be anyone and just live life bravely. Something that I haven't really experienced for quite a while since. Or perhaps I forgot to experience. And I love the fact that you're in that moment and in that journey because not everybody can afford it.

If there's one thing I've learned from meeting people like you, is that you will want to know more and to see more. To never settle and to just explore. At first, I would've wanted the same but through my work and my own self-healing, I've come to realize the importance of real connections. That not everybody who comes into your life are expendable. They leave a different ache, a different joy, and a different relief. Hence, if I'm being honest, I'd like to take my time and spend moments with each of them, without fear and without anxiousness about the future. I want to take more risks and be brave nonetheless.

I want to trust myself that despite everything, I know I'll be able to handle it. I know I'll be okay after it and I know I'll be better from it. That perhaps my fear of wanting more and getting disappointed should be faced head on than to be avoided.

You don't trust that someone's never gonna betray you. You just trust that you'll be able to handle it if they do.

I hope I can get through this.

[intjkey-deactivated20260509]

My Oxford Year ~ Anna & Jamie (parallels)

[thesweetiepienovels]

Actually, you are enough. Even if you don’t work. Or study. Or go out. Or have friends. Or have family. You’re enough because you exist and your existence is enough to be enough because you are not a product. You are not a sum of output. You are not a task to complete. But because you are something the universe wanted and put here even if you’ll never understand why. Somewhere in the cosmos your existence makes a difference, even if it’s not the way others existences do.

[see-me-blackhearted]

23:27 Thoughts

Well, it's been a while. I never thought it would take this long for me to write again. Last I checked, a cheating ex became the subject.

But now?

Just an overcaffeinated self.

Honestly, I'm just appalled at how people seem to have a lot of assumptions about me. And how I continue to not give much fucks about it. It irks me to just hear some assumptions that were not made to be confirmed nor clarified. I guess, that's how people work. They tend to live in this reality where it would suit their preference.

Then again, I'm the same. We all have different narratives about each other. But I guess tonight, I just wanna write about how I don't need to be understood all the time and the act of convincing others just seems like a waste of time.

Take it or leave it.

[onscreenkisses]

THE RESIDENT, 4x10 - “Into The Unknown”

[packing-it-up]

[kcyars19992]

blackloveeeee

6h ago

AJ AUSTIN & MINA OKAFOR The Resident • 4.01: "A Wedding, A Funeral"

[see-me-blackhearted]

04:14 pm

I feel like I'm going crazy.

It's been fucking 3 days since I found out my boyfriend cheated. This motherfucker just could not keep his fucking dick to himself. And the fact that my perfume got robbed from his unit only intensifies my anger. All this fucking injustice. All this fucking excuses. I feel like losing my mind. I feel like breaking something. Felt like ruining his life. I want to ruin his life. I want to fucking kill him. I want to fucking kill his hoes. I just want the world to fucking end.

It's so fucking unfair. This fucking life. This fucking person. I can't grip of my sanity at this point and I felt like doing a crime. I felt like fucking ruining everyone's day and bring them to hell with me. God, I don't deserve this. I don't deserve any of this. I just wanna be fucking free. I want my stuff back. I want my dignity back. I want my pride back.

I felt like I lost all power. I lost all fucking decency. I felt like someone fucking dug a knife through my heart repeatedly and without remorse. My logical and emotional mind are having a war with each other. I feel myself bleeding. Feel myself suffocating. I can't think straight. I can't think at all. All I can see is Jorge fucking another woman. Another plus size woman. Like what is it with the taste of men??

I can only pray so hard for karma. I feel like I'm about to go insane yet I'm holding on for dear life because... because... I can't lose myself. I can't breakdown again. Not today. Not tonight. I don't know what's becoming of me. I felt there's someone in me that just wants to be let out and bring destruction. Is this the real me? THe ugly side. The horrible side. The unforgiving side.

All this time I thought I was a good person. That all I could give was love. Real and genuine love. I thought it was enough. TO love someone. To fight for someone.

I didn't realize that it doesn't matter. Nothing fucking matters. At the end of the day, it's all about power.

And I just got mine stolen from me.