To Those People

To those people who have days when crying has turned into staring at a dark wall while feeling the tears burn at the back of their eyes and their throats constricted by a welling lump. To those people whose arms and legs narrate a tragically beautiful story. To those stories…that would make every one of you, who aren’t them, reevaluate your own personal story.

To those people who I walk by down those crowded hallways, who hide their pains by laughing it off. To those people, who know full well what it feels like to be drained behind their happiest of smiles. To you, who knows how to hide like how a child knows how to find his favorite, most cherished toy.

To those people who wake up confused, not knowing why there is a lapse, a gap, a gigantic blackhole in their memories. To those people who are addicted to their own pain as if it were some sort of ecstasy drug, who enjoy their own pain. To those people who ache for patterns in their lives, who live in one (Five minutes to eat breakfast, take a bath for Ten minutes, change clothes Three times,  lock and unlock the door Six times…).

To those people who are in pain yet no one would believe them. To those people who look in the mirror and absolutely hate what they see. To those people who stay on a chair and see and hear what other people can’t. To those people whose nights are filled with wandering minds and unanswered begs; wishes. To those people who spend days with only themselves for company.

I see you.

You don’t think anyone sees you, but I do. And to that I raise a glass of the finest champagne a rich man could have in his possession and say… “cheers”.

Cheers to those people who fight in the wars of their own mind. Cheers to those people who are broken and worn down to the bone. Cheers to those people who have unnatural cravings that have to be satisfied. Cheers to those people who hide. Cheers to those people who have encased themselves in a world entirely of their own.

Cheers…for fighting in a never ending battle.

But allow me to offer a sledgehammer for you to break down the walls that you have surrounded yourselves in. Allow me to help you take down each nail of that wall. Allow me to see you…to really see you. Allow me to be your rope, your punching bag, your shoulder, your boulder and all those cliche sayings.

If you are broken, then by all means show your brokenness to me. If you are at war, allow me to be your commanding officer. If you crave for the patterns, then show me your routine. If you have a world of your own, then sign me up for the tour of it! If you hear something, tell me. If you are in pain…just call me and I’ll be there as fast as I can. After all, I can run.

 

(for those people

…and you)

 

Promise

“Don’t leave me.”

“…I promise.”

I promise.

See the hesitation? It’s because I’m scared. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it. I don’t want to leave you. Trust me. I really don’t. But I’m scared that I will just lose it and just…give up. But I don’t want to. For your sake I don’t want to. But I’m still scared.

But you know what? In the end. I still promised. You want to know why? Because it’s for you. I would do anything for you. It is you after all. I promise.

And this promise? Means so much to me now, I realise. Its not just a mere promise to me. Its not just some promise that I could break without giving a single thought to it. No. Its a promise I will do my utmost best — no wait — more than my best to keep. And I will keep it. For you.

It is my promise to you.

It is for you.

 

(for you who I promised to.)

(Not) Our Final Goodbye

I guess this is it then.

A goodbye will be on everyone’s tongue.

A farewell wave will be on repeat.

And eyes will be trailed on whoever leaves.

Though, is it really a goodbye,

If you will send messages, have long distance calls, and plan elaborated meetings?

Is it really a goodbye,

If you don’t want it to be?

So no. Please do not utter that word to me.

Do not hug me like it will be the last.

Do not eye me with misty eyes of miss.

It will not be the last hug, last word, last sight.

Most of all, I’m not ready for a goodbye.

I’m not ready to say goodbye to you.

To our memories.

I’m not ready; I don’t want to.

So, this will not be our final goodbye.

It will just be the first of yet another many.

For those whose stories and friendship engraved itself into my heart. I’m not ready to say my final goodbye to you. 

(Thanks to you, especially, who is my rock)

Watching Conversations

When I’m in a conversation — well “conversation” — with other people, and I’m just quietly there in a corner watching you two, or three, perhaps even four,  talk. If I do that, please don’t think of all those stalker-ish or creeper-ish thoughts. I am neither a stalker (to you) nor a creeper (to you). I just…like…watching you guys talk.

Okay, that came out creeper-ish.

What I’m trying to say is that, I like how your minds work in a conversation. I like how you are able to express your ideas –perhaps not completely — but differently. I like how each sentence that comes from your mouths open up new ideas, new questions, even new statements about the topic.

I like how you guys banter on and on and on. You banter back and forth about your different opinions on this specific topic. I like how you guys just ramble about what you agree on as well.

I like watching your conversations.

(So please if I look like I’m just watching you guys talk with this ridiculous small fond smile on my face…PLEASE, don’t ask me to join the banter or the rambles. I’m just going to ruin the momentum for you.)

So please…Let me be. Let me watch conversations like those all day long.

I don’t mind at all.

…even if

Smile…even if you are breaking inside.

Shift your eyes into happy ones…even if it feels like you are about to cry.

Stand up straight with your chin held high…even if all you want to do is curl up into a ball and be empty.

Walk the halls  towards your destination with pride…even if you jus want to cower in a corner.

Sometimes…we have to wear a mask.

No, not just for show.

But for the people we love

Who are breaking inside.

We have to be those open arms they will run to.

We have to be that shoulder they will cry on.

We have to be their boulder; their shore.

…Even if we ourselves have nothing to hold on to.

Questions – They are many but here are (3)

What am I to you?

A friend.

A shoulder to cry on

A pair of arms to allow to wrap around me.

A chest to lean into.

A broken toy that needs repair.

A broken mirror to be thrown away.

Am I easily thrown away?

Yes, at a shrug of my shoulder you are gone.

No, don’t leave.

Yes, I won’t even give you a second thought.

No, I’m not heartless.

Maybe, I’m not sure what you mean to me just yet.

Yes,  You are just this person who means nothing to me anyway.

No, I…just…No. Never ask me that again.

Will you leave me?

Yes. I want to.

No. But I have to.

Yes, I’m tired of you.

No, why would I?

Yes, Its very easy to so why not?

No, I can’t imagine any reason to.

Maybe. I’m not yet sure. Perhaps.

I know

You.

Are scaring me.

You.

Are worrying me.

I’m okay. You say.

But I’ve been there; I know that look in your eyes for I have worn them far too many times.

I know that smile you are holding up for I have long since taped it to my face.

I know.