Monthly Archives: February 2017
I don’t remember the first time I met her. Perhaps when things are really important, we don’t remember first moments. Or, more likely, I just met her before I was old enough to form these kind of intentional memories, before I was capable of reaching back in time and freezing an image into significance, naming it a beginning.
People talk a lot about whether men and women can be friends, as though the difficulty of friendship stopped there, as though the same question shouldn’t be asked about all friendship- can two women be friends, can two people be friends?….Is there any love possible in which one person doesn’t want something from the other that isn’t quite the same thing that the other person wants from them?
She writes really awesome. To read the complete article visit:
As life runs on, the road grows strange
With faces new, and near the end
The milestones into headstones change,
’Neath every one a friend.
-James Russell Lowell
To hurt each other was all we knew
The only way we could love
We couldn’t stop
We couldn’t think
Until there was no ‘us’ to hurt.
Till we could only feel pain
at each other’s sight
Till we became numb to everything
but insults and fight
It leaves me wondering
if ‘too much love’ is really ‘love’
Is this what happens
when we give each other everything
and there’s nothing left for ourselves?
I felt the end is drawing near,
would time be so kind to slow?
You are everything
to me, my dear-
you are all I really know.
But as I sit and wait and fear
and watch the hours go-
Everything that happened here,
happened long ago.
I have nothing to talk to you,
I have hundred things that make me cry at this moment.
There are moments in my life that fill me with joy,
that makes my life seem worth living,
that you do not know of .
But I have nothing to say to you.
You are still my friend,
but I feel we exist in different world.
My world consists of only me.
And your world has no place
for the silence that I speak in.
But I can’t tell you that.
I don’t want to lose you.
You may not know me now.
I may not know you too.
We are holding he hands of our past selves.
But you know it already,
But love me still, like I love you.
I can’t hear your sighs
while you think I do not care enough.
I would love to bind myself and my life
Had I not been so sure
that freedom is the only measure of happiness for me.
The love they talk about
is not in my heart.
I can’t harbor such sweetness.
I can’t live in surrender.
I was not made for that.
My heart was not made to be loved,
but to be cherished.
I won’t settle for anything less.
I do not ask for anything more.
My idea of love was never
the protection or sense of safety I always lacked.
Or admiration true or false
that could put to sleep the complexes I have.
Or to be touched in ways
that make human hearts race.
My idea of love was
to be so precious to someone
that they you never
change me or break me.
You changed me.
You broke me.
And I only remember the sighs you took while doing so.
Making me feel less than what I am.
But still, I breathe the same air as you,
You almost loved me.
- Know when to give up and when to not.
- Take responsibility of my life.
- Take steps to become the person I want.
- Stop thinking about things that do not matter.
- Think about things that do matter.
- Accept and enjoy the happiness I have.
- Not to question every good thing in my life
- Not to wait for something bad to happen every moment.
- Accept compliments.
- Give compliment.
- Give my opinion on anything to anyone.
- Believe in myself.
- Talk to a stranger (even if I want to).
- Not hide behind my pain as an excuse.
- Not trying to guess ulterior motives of people (even if they may not have any).
- Know how much love to give.
- Not to be bound by my comfort zone.
- Try something new.
- Not be blinded by emotion even if I know I will regret it.
- Accept my limitations and move on.
- Not to be awkward around people.
- Not be self-obsessed.
- Make a list like this, without getting depressed by it.
- Eat healthy.
- Keep friends.
- Not get influenced by emotional blackmail of everyone around me.
- Accept my fault/ mistakes.
- Break out of my habits.
- Write something meaningful.
- Love people who deserve it.
Declare to world how much of a mess I am(did that right now 🙂 )
- Continue writing this stupid list.
I once wrote a beautiful poem
which sounded like a happy child
playing in an empty church.
The echoes of his laughter and footsteps
playing in a never ending loop.
But I have never been a happy child.
I have never been to a church.
The poem was beautiful.
It was just not me.