Meaningful Stealings

Not my own post, but something someone wrote and it connects to what I am feeling.

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"The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference."

I can't remember when or where I came across this. It was a long time ago but it stuck.
How quickly love flips into anger. How unpredictably, love splinters into a hundred sharp edges.

How agonising, that the one you loved who loved you in return, becomes an opponent in a tug of war spliced with pride, hurt, blame, guilt, unkind words, sleepless nights and troubled days.
I used to think love is all about tenderness. Of affection and harmony. I also believed that hate and anger had no place in a relationship.

Not anymore.

So go on. Have your say. Feel the depths of your wrath. Know how deeply someone has reached inside you. Do whatever you want. Say whatever you want. Don't feel you have to suppress your emotions even if they're 'wrong'. But just like with freedom and democracy comes responsibility, so too, in love. You bear the consequences of how you decide to behave or what you say.

As much as love grows, it is also forged.

Random Musings

It's sad when it comes to a point that you have to amputate a friendship. But do you know what's sadder?

That when you've done it, you never once looked back and regretted it.

Friends are not the names in your Nokia phone book, nor the email addresses in your MSN list. They are not mere names or faces. They play a genuine role in your life. They love you, they try their best to understand you and they accept you.

You have always been a friend to me, but I don't know what exactly went wrong with us. Although I do know that something was amiss when I rarely felt like calling you or taking the initiative to ask you out.

And deep down, I know that I've been withdrawing from you. More than anything, I'm afraid of who I become when I'm alone with you. I become insecure because I don't know when is the next time I'm going to say something wrong or insensitive to you, or when I'm going to be judged for what I do and choose. I am terrified of your sarcastic, uncaring retorts.

Years of great memories, forgotten?

When I finally realised I had did all that I can, and I didn't feel anything more for you, I let go.

No matter how perfect friendships seem to be, words and actions, once said and made, cannot be redeemed or remedied. Time inexorably moves away from the experiences, but instead of becoming distant, it grows tentacles that seize their beings and influences everything for the days to come.

In a photo frame, we look like awesome best girl friends, with the same broad smiles and arms around each other. But though a picture can capture a moment, it cannot tell you what encompasses it, what had come before and what is to happen after. It cannot reveal our innermost feelings, it cannot speak the truth. One Kodak moment masks a broken friendship for awhile, but an ever-widening circle of consequences has already started to take effect, slowly, but surely.

Now, I've moved on. Silently, for months. You've never asked me why I am not there for you anymore, maybe you don't even bother, I'm okay with that too.

I've learnt a valuable lesson, that, when you compromise your own self and pride too many times to keep a friendship afloat, its time to reflect whether its worth it. Life is a confusing equation at times, and maybe, at another given time and place, I can be myself and at the same time, be the kind of friend that you really need.

And girl... I'd have love you forever if you had allowed me to.

Just another substitute

I am yours, you are mine, we are all but substitutes.

I read it in your face, the lies, the insincere words, the kiss u planted on my forehead out of guilt, out of pity.

It was a lie from the start of the evening, I know you couldn't stay, you know you wouldn't stay.

All your explanation and apologies did no difference. You were leaving, and I told you to leave without another word. I didn't want to hear a word more, knowing that all the words in this world makes no difference.

I didn't want you to see me break, not wanting you to mistake my tears as a sign of you hurting me, because you wouldn't understand I wanted to cry for myself and that the tears were for and from myself, not you.

As you walked out of the door, and as I shut the room door, I knew the many doors of my heart, one of which was assigned to you, was shut at the same time too.

I sat on the bed, and the tears came no matter how hard I willed them not to. The tears were a mixture of feelings; loneliness, emptiness and loathe. I hate how I treat myself, subjecting myself to expected disappointments, inflicting hurt and wounds to myself, never allowing them to heal, pretending they will go away, throwing them all into the black hole, wishing they will disappear, but all they ever did, are to come back to haunt.

I don't have anyone to blame, not you, you, you or more you. I can be no one's substitute unless I allow myself to.

When the tears dried, and the bottled feelings vented, I put the pain to rest again, however, knowing they will always be back.

Another substitute was found, once again, I did it again. Don't ask me why, I can find no words to explain.

I know he didn't care, not at all. In his eyes, I am not one of his kind, not one with feelings or thoughts. Just another of his toys, just a robot to perform the necessary and then forgotten. He never once kissed me, to him perhaps robots are not to be kissed, because their lips tell of no stories and speaks of no feelings. But, I am not a robot. He will never see this.

Perhaps, its intimacy I needed, to feel wanted, to feel loved in another way. If not, how else do I find the reason behind the things I do.

I see this as running, and living on borrowed time.

Please, just don't let me be blinded and keep on falling into this bottomless pit.

Please, please, let this circle around my heart, this armor enveloping me, never be worn down.

I don't know how long this brave front facade and the real vulnerable inside can struggle and when it is going to tear me apart.

Please, don't allow me to fall prey to.....myself.