Right this very moment, I don’t actually have a concrete idea about what I really want to write. So reader, excuse the level of randomness that this post is heading its way to this time. It’s sad that there were several things that happened for the past months that I consider pretty huge, and yet I didn’t have the guts to write about those, out of fear of underplaying those important moments. I wanted to post a whole bunch of pictures and just try to remember every single thing that happened, to be able to go back to that certain point in time when I was actually happy. But I don’t know how. Maybe I’m just scared because I know for a fact that I’m not good enough to write something about that certain event, that I might just lose its meaning, and yet, I want to see my page and be able to see something that reminds me of that day. I’m sure I don’t actually make sense, but whatever. I miss the way I didn’t usually get tired of talking about how my day went, how happy I was with the people who mean so much to me.
I once thought if it’s possible to miss someone you see every single day, and I guess the answer is yes. Because I miss my best friend. I miss how close we were. I miss those days when she used to be my study buddy. I miss how we never kept secrets to each other. I miss the way everything was so great between the two of us. I miss the way she actually made time for us, her friends. I miss the way I never did hesitate to tell her what’s on my mind. I miss those days when we used to always, always, always have each other. God, I just miss her. And I don’t have the fucking courage to tell her how I really feel because a) I don’t want to be that person who needs someone to depend on, b) I’m afraid she might cut me off completely, especially when someone I loathe is involved, and c) I don’t know, okay? God, I feel miserable.
I still sometimes find myself looking for that girl I used to know, that person who never backed down, that girl who never let anything get in her way, that same old selfless person who never once failed to treat everyone with kindness no matter how much they have wronged her, a.k.a. the old me, circa 2012. Looking back to the old days, I feel stupid to let so much to happen. It felt like I didn’t do my best to take care of things when I actually had the chance to. I no longer know what would make me happy. I can’t even understand myself most of the time. I try to be better. God, I really am, but bad things still keep on happening. Sometimes I hate the person I’ve become. If only I could get things to the way they once were I would. God, I would. Trust me, reader. There’s nothing I would give to bring back the old me. I’m trying to find and get her back, I really do.
I am trying my hardest to let go of this blanket of bitterness that has been enveloping me since I don’t remember when. So much things had happened and I just grew exhausted of being exhausted, being sad over the same thing and same person every day. I hate to live every day, just merely trying to get everything over with. I’m just tired of being sad.
I just want THIS to be over.
Tears are words that need to be written. — Paulo Coelho
The title is from James Morisson’s song, This Boy.