thepretencethatkills

shutup and dance with me

[thepretencethatkills]

I'm trying to move on, forget you

but I hold on

[thepretencethatkills]

I'm texting some writer guy and he's sending me his poetry and it seems pretty good.

But it reminded me, almost immediately, about 'the book'.

And I looked up towards the shelf, eyeing the book.

That book, the last connection between us that you gave back. The book that I gave you to read way back when. A year ago. The one you returned a few weeks ago. The one that I came home and checked the front and back page for some kind of note, some kind of goodbye, some form of closure.

It was the last topic we had to talk about. Now, now we're strangers. But the pages were empty. No notes, no pencil marks, no goodbyes.

It was fucking disappointing.

So today, when that guy sent me his poem and I looked at the book. I looked again, went through the pages to see the empty pages. No notes. No goodbyes. No messages. No thanks. No words.

I'm pathetic for sure, but did I seriously not even deserve the last word?

[thepretencethatkills]

I walked past a stranger today, but it was weird, because I knew what books he read, his height, his family issues, and what his laugh sounded like.

[thepretencethatkills]

When you lose a person from your life, you lose them pretty quickly.

It's a fast and slow process.

Fast because, one moment they are a part of every single second that you're alive. 'Good morning', 'you should sleep now', 'have you had bfast?'

And the next moment, they're not. It's just empty now. You realize they're so much time in your day now, time that was taken up by them; time that you now have to think and think.

Slow because, for a few days, you won't realize the implications of that person not being here anymore. It hits you harder than ever, much, much later. A few months maybe. Then it'll keep hitting you, every few months.

Slow because, now it's been so many months and I'm right back where I started. Looking at our texts, our promises. Fast because, I've had so much of empty time suddenly, and I'm filling it up with work and work and also, overthinking.

Slow because, it's another holiday season but this time I know you're not missing or reminiscing us. This time I know you're texting someone else. Fast because, it's another holiday season and I have so much time with nothing to do, but reminisce.

And I feel like a shitty loser who lost at life because you moved on, but I'm right back where I started.

[thepretencethatkills]

We all know that the 'firsts' are special. First eye contact, first hand hold, first hug, first shoulder lean, first kiss.

It's special because it's exciting to know there's many more to come.

But what we don't realize is that what hurts the most are the 'lasts'.

Sure the kisses and hugs will never end but, at some point, with that special person, they do end. With that one person, you'll realize that it was the last time you held his hand, the last time he hugged you, the last time he looked into your eyes, the last time he spoke to you, the last time you met. This realization is deadly.

For 'firsts', it's all about anticipation; you know this is your first. But you never know until afterwards, that that was one of the 'lasts'.

It's heart wrenching and soul crushing.

I never realized that was possible.

[thepretencethatkills]

"His loss"

but I couldn't eat for days.

"His loss", but I couldn't sleep for days.

"His loss", but I'm the one that got ruined.

"His loss", but I'm the one who's crying.

"His loss", but I'm the only one suffering.

It was never his loss, only mine. Because when I left him, I left all my intentions of loving someone else again; I left all hopes of finding someone again. Because when I left him, I left the lover girl inside me too. Nobody would ever see that side of me again.

[thepretencethatkills]

You're the worst person for me

The wrong person at the wrong time

But still in my mind I can ignore all of it

Your horrible behavior, your unplaced anger and your cheap comments

I can ignore all of that

And remember

Remember the feel of your hand in mine

The feel of the comfort you provided

The feel of your reassuring presence

The feeling of being the passenger princess on our precious but limited scooty rides where I could rest my head on your back and just breathe out

I didn't know our time was short orelse I would have made good effort to make the bad memories better.

Like the awkward and angry silent treatment scooty rides

Like those moments when we broke each other's hearts.

All I have now is memories. Memories that slowly fade away. I can remember the feeling of you but it fades with time too.

I want that feeling back. So desperately. I don't want to forget. I don't want you to forget.

But you're my wrong person at the worst time.

So, I don't think I want you back.

Just that feeling.

Any feeling.

I want the feeling back.

And so, I force myself to remember when you broke my heart, when you behaved horribly so that I can remind my heart that maybe it felt good at the time, but that's all that was. A moment. A feeling. Destroyed by the flaws of human beings.

[flowerytale]

Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Dr. and Mrs. J.G. Holland (1858)

[thepretencethatkills]

you know when he once said "I promise you, we'll fight, but never stop talking"

and how you said, "promise"

and now after everything is said and done,

you've both broken your promises

and all you can hear now is the repetition and echo of his words, "I promise..never stop talking."

[thepretencethatkills]

"Everyone else is off falling in love and acting stupid and goofy and sweet and insane, but not me.

Why don't I want that more?

I want to want that.

Am I wired wrong or something?"

-------------------------------------------------------

"Well, what if I'm just a... a cold person?

Tonight Mike was willing to look like a complete idiot for me, but I couldn't be Gretel.

Why can't I be Gretel? "

"Because you just haven't met the right Hansel yet. "

-------------------------------------------------------

~How I met your mother (Season 1 Episode 6)

[thepretencethatkills]

All my friends are in love, the moment I'm not.

It's the second year of college and I'm starting to find it impossible without him. During the very first days of college last year, he was one of my first friends. We navigated through first year together. Now in class, I find myself waiting for him to enter late and sit on the back benches. It's not the same anymore and that makes me so sad.

I want all the things I had

I miss all the things I was

The little jokes, the whispering during class, the gossiping, the scooter rides. I miss it all.

I miss him

I miss the friends 'us' before we were together; before all the little things started to feel wrong. Now, I saw him and he didn't even glance at me once. When I start to realize what I'm missing, what I once had, I miss him. There was a time when we talked about our problems in life and now, when he says he's not sleeping properly, I'm not in the position to ask or comfort him anymore.

And that hurts.

Everyone's in love,

I wish I still was.

guess I'm human afterall.

a very heartbroken fucking human.

[thepretencethatkills]

Is it weak to want things to stay the same

Is it weak to fear change?

[thepretencethatkills]

a home, you say?

You say- What do I know about the world, about change, about people, about places?

When I never step foot outside my porch.

What do I know about constantly moving to a different place, the struggles of meeting new people, the struggles of leaving people behind, the struggles of fitting in; the new language, the new food, the new customs, the new society, what do I know about all these pains?

It is true. I have lived in the same house for 19 years. I have lived in the same part of the same town, my whole life.

But, don’t you dare compare my life to yours. Don’t you dare say that I have it better.

Don’t you fucking dare.

I’m surrounded by four walls that never widen, shorten or move. They’re not flexible. The walls are fixed.

What do you know about a house that looks the exact same from the outside for decades, and the people inside are the same?

What do you know about watching the same people slowly change, their behaviour change, their mindset change, their attitudes change. Life happens to all, all of us people in the same house. We go outside, life happens and we come back home changed. Everyday.

18 stairs, 6 windows, 6 fans, 5 doors, 3 bedrooms, 2 balconies, 2 floors, 1 terrace.

Every. Single. Day.

The walls don’t change. The people do.

The language doesn’t change. The food doesn’t change.

The affection changes. The relationships change. The attitude changes.

No, I don’t know much about constantly moving into a new place, but do you know about a house, made of brick and mortar, not feeling like a home?

[thepretencethatkills]

waiting for your text

I saw the first ‘reacted to your message’ pop up on my notifications.

Then I waited, for another.

A minute passed, and I returned to working on my laptop, shaking my head at the foolish possibility of hope.

Two minutes passed, and I cracked my knuckles, sneaking glances at the phone beside me, willing for another notification.

Three minutes and sure enough, there’s a ‘ding’ on my phone.

“No way it takes three minutes to think of a reply,” I think.

I was right, it didn’t take three minutes, it took ‘never’.

It was someone else’s text.

I guess I shouldn’t have waited.

[thepretencethatkills]

What is this feeling? A fleeting sense of calm and peace, A mere sensation, though, When I peer deep inside, I find a facade, a mask for plain nothingness. As I delve further still, I touch upon fiery anger, seething in my soul, A voice that never ceases to scream, Screaming into the endless dark of night. I encounter another feeling, screaming incessantly, Until it abruptly stops, transforming into numbness. Through my eyes, one sees only silence, Only me, gazing into the void with eyes of emptiness. At times, the waves of agony recede when happiness washes over, In those moments, I forget that anger and sadness ever existed. A fault of my own, to forget, To be surprised when it all comes rushing back like a tsunami, And then, I forget that happiness ever existed. A vicious cycle I’m ensnared in. Huzzah.

[thepretencethatkills]

I see you with her

And I think, "she doesn't deserve you"

I see you with her

And I think, "but am I worthy of you?"

I see you with her

And I think, "I know she loves you"

I see you with her

And I think, "I couldn't love you like that"

I see you with her

And I think, "My feelings don't matter"

You look happy with her

And I think, "I'll never be able to make you mine"

I see her with you

And I think, "I'll always be on the sidelines"

[feral-ballad]

Jeanette Winterson, from Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

[Text ID: “and I cried in the way that you do when there is nothing but crying. There was nothing to hold on to.”]

[thepretencethatkills]

Today, I allow myself to miss you. I allow myself to feel all the feelings of guilt, sadness and regret about "us". Was there ever an us? Is there an "us" to mourn for? I miss the little things we did together. I miss the late night conversations. Now, I lay awake till 3 all alone trying to convince myself "I am alone, not lonely". To an extent, I believe it to be true. But these past few weeks say otherwise. I could ignore that feeling too. I've become a master at it. Just like how I ignore missing you. Missing us. Missing that connection. Then I ask myself again, "was there ever even a connection?" And so, the spiral continues. And so, I choose to ignore. But just for today, I allow myself to miss you.