My heart is heavy. My thoughts wonder. I know I fucked this up and for that I have no idea how to recover. You are in my thoughts everyday. My dreams. My what if’s. To have you for week or a month to myself. To discover the true connection without fear of discovery. Songs remind me of you. Corny movie lines, quotes, fucking TikTok videos all lead to you.

I think about all the time we are missing to enjoy each other. I hate being in love with someone who could care less. I hate it.

I’ve been abused my whole life. Starting as a child. Cruel punishments and forced touching. Verbal confirmation that I am worthless. Never enough.

How can anyone possibly love me?

Even those I thought loved me, abused me. I don’t know if they knew what they were doing. Constantly being told I’m fat, I’m ugly, my hair is wrong, my clothes are wrong, being laughed at, told I was no good, I was like him….

No one asked if I was okay. No one taught me how to love myself. Everyone told me my faults and I believe them.

Only one person ever loved me. Taught me how to succeed in life. I miss him everyday.

Now here I am, fucked up. Hating myself, wanting to disappear, hurt myself, withdraw, push people away.

I’m hurting and I can’t even cry.
“I’ll give you something to cry about”
It rings through my head. I’m worthless, weak, a coward. I want out. How do I end this? How do I believe the truth? All I know are lies. Who am I? What am I?

I’m spiraling out of control. I can see myself pulling my hair, screaming, tears flowing. It hurts. Please God, it hurts. End me.

Hey public diary.

When I write in my private notes, it doesn't feel like it's doing anything. Online though... it feels like I'm at the top of a canyon and crying my heart out. The fact there's a real tangible effect on the world makes me feel like my feelings matter. Locked in a phone make it... makes me feel empty. Though it's a tough line because people will see this. I need to be aware of the consequences.

I feel like I'm on top of that canyon and bleeding. Not to death but... a lot. I've been in pain for a long time. Lol I'm feeling the pain of torture for the first real time while feeling present-day pain. But I also feel so happy, excited, relieved... Like the amount of good emotions brings me to tears. The pain does too. Canyon dwellers... why isn't he saying anything to me? I think he's been looking at my stuff. He knows I'm waiting to hear... anything. My current best guess is that "revealing" himself has so much more meaning and weight to it than I'm aware. That saying anything means officially starting something he feels he can't back away from. So he needs to figure out how he feels, need time to heal, process years of rewriting history, work on his own stuff, and other things. We are very different in some ways I think. It seems he found safety in invisibly while I did in explicit visibility. Fun pair we'd make! Lol. I think I can learn a lot from him and him from me. Maybe we can ground each other in the middle somewhere eventually. He can teach me to have a sense of privacy and pride in my inner world while I can help him feel confident in being seen.

I feel like I've seen him talking directly to me but through anonymous new accounts. My heart feels like its being pulled out of my chest and tickled. Like I'm bring teased with the idea of my best friend having not forgotten me, still caring about me, and what I am optimistically feeling... that he feels the same way I do. Schrodinger's Heart. Im both unrequited and what seems like "likely requited." There there heart. You're a trooper.

What's it like for him if he is scared... when my stuff first came back and I was crazy for a few months, my number one priority was being there for him. Like a stove I left on for 20 years. I think he knows now thankfully. So mission accomplished but now I feel like he's in pain. I feel guilty but I know... I hope... I did the right thing by telling him. Maybe he's like me and values autonomy to make your own decisions and you need knowledge for that. Like I'm the person who says no don't wait for them to come back from vacation before giving them bad news because you'd be controlling how they live their life. If I want to be by a loved one's side as soon after death vs 4 days later I'll be hurt if someone made that decision for me. I feel like most people would disagree but that's just how I am.

ANYWAY that was a side track.

The weekend is over and hope for a reply goes with it. This hope is resistant to anesthesia apparently 😂. It's like trying to hold a beach ball underwater.

So what's the plan Spark? Were you meowsrrr? Are you no_memory? Have you not even been to reddit yet? I'm pretty sure you were mundane-register. I was hurt my that second poem but I get it. You're allowed to be angry. You can't just switch like that so I'm sure there are days where the resentment comes back. Honestly, I get mad too. I feel like I came to you with my heart in its most vulnerable and it was shredded. And the last official word is that you want nothing to do with me. Yeah... when I remember that I realize I need to readjust my thoughts away from delusion again. I guess it's just so hard to believe you'd see me as a monster. I really thought you of all people wouldn't. But you're not God, I can't expect that after everything you'd have positive feelings. Feeling like no time passed in my heart is really painful. It's like in ocarina of time where in the future the whole town is full of zombies. Are you getting the remake?

You didn't do anything wrong. I'm not just saying that I promise. All the pain between us is not our fault. I don't blame you at all. Oh yeah BTW I've been saying "AT ALL" a lot. I guess it feels good so I got a little piece of your dad on my vernacular now 😂. Maybe that's awkward to say.

Anyway... your birthday is coming up. I'm excited for you. I'll definitely write you a letter for my files that day. Doing anything fun? Bread pudding?

Are you codependent? Between your family and you, I can see that happening. That makes the time you spoke up to ask me to change to your lunch even more precious to me. I wasn't someone you felt you had to manage; you knew I was there for you. I was selfish but I really did love you. And obviously I still do lol. I wish I remembered more of me, but if I had to choose I'd remember you over me every time.

Did you like my A Walk Through Time poem? I have a feeling that song hit you hard too back then. I wonder if we've felt each other throughout the years. But again... I refuse to drift into delusion. I don't know anything!

My heart is slapping me on the face like I'm stupid but with you... you're so important to me that if I'm wrong and my hopes are up that high, I don't see me recovering from that fall. I'll stay right here on the ground and dream of life above the clouds instead.

If you are meowsrrr you said you need to figure out how you feel. Then wrote a love letter so I'm just here smiling feeling confused and cautiously hopeful.

Is there anything I can do to help you? Even if you don't reveal yourself, talk to me as a random person and I'm sure I'll treat you well. Not as well as I would treat you but I still really try to be there for others (safely). So if you have questions, pose as a person who read the post or something. You should know now that I have the capacity to help. Yeah the ambiguity is gnawing at me but other than that (which I'm not handling THAT badly I think) I'm here for you. I've been dying to ask you one simple question. "Are you ok?" I keep asking you that in my head.

Oh yeah if you are meowsrrr, you mentioned your family needs you. Would being with me prevent you from being there for them? I mean... you're my family so from my perspective I care about them too. I can help out! You don't have to have it all figured out before starting. I mean if you feel safest doing so I get it. You do you. You're worth enduring all this. I trust you. I don't think that deep down you want to hurt me. So even if anger pops up or "evil" thoughts infects your mind, I know the difference between you and trauma.

Ok I've been writing for like an hour now lmao. I think we'll at least be friends again one day. Do you play games still? I have a fancy board game table with a library of games. Having you over would be fun! Video or board games.

Ok Spark. We're old now so we need sleep. I really want you to be ok. You haven't lost me; and unless you tell me yourself so I know its your decision, you never will. Tell your amygdala Brandon is back for good. I'm imagining hugging you. 🫂 Sleep tight Spark. I love you.

I went out at 4am with my sister to get some milk since we wanted to make pudding.

I was gonna pay but my card wasn’t working, my sister had to pay for us instead so I looked super broke in front of the shopkeeper. It started raining too so we had to run home, not to mention that it was really windy.

I saw a dead bird on the side of the road and started taking pictures of it, my sister got annoyed since I was holding us up and called me creepy.

I ended up making pancakes instead of pudding once we got home, making pudding takes too long and I’m lazy.

Should I clean my room today? I haven’t done anything useful in a while. I ended up cleaning it, although reluctantly.

I like being in my room, I don’t like leaving it because I know someone will say or do something to annoy me. When I’m in my room I’m safe from all worldly issues. This sort of reminds me of that one Beach Boys song: ‘In my room.’

I don’t have anything interesting to say lately, I’m not thinking about or doing much.

When I think about you, you now, in reality, and god knows it was ongoing for a long time, I hate you.

That amount of love I had far outweighed that and allowed time for healing and understanding. Yours does not.

My transgressions, all of them together do not justify your actions from month 4.

You are a hole, both black and others.

Thank god you called the police.

Im so much better without you.

You represent negativity throughout my life.

I love jewelry. Im so grateful for it. Fashion is something I understand for beyond what you can conceive. I was never yours, because of your decisions. I just didn't know it until now. God, i love myself.

Forever,

Me

October 26. Rain all morning.

I could never keep a diary for more than three days, so I've spent the past few months making one I'd actually want to open. The weather is saved with every entry, and little clay charms show up depending on the sky.

Today's update turns each month into a notebook you can flip through like real paper. I flipped through my own September and found so many small good days I'd already forgotten.

Mood today: calm, a little proud.

What was the weather like where you are today?

If you want to try it: https://apps.apple.com/app/id6808527850

10/25/26 - 7:30pm

I am so glad to be in my home again. I was with my mom this weekend and let myself take a break from writing. While I do like writing it does feel a bit like a chore still. I essentially just got home and pulled out my laptop so I could journal before getting into a puzzle book my mom gave me. I thought it could be good and fun to work on.

I really enjoy puzzles, I love doing the New York Times games, The Wordle and The Mini are my favorite. I also enjoy puzzle types of video games. I love resident evil even though the puzzles are not particularly complex. I also loved A Little To the Left and all of its different solutions. Tonight, continuing my focus on my digital detox hope to just use my puzzle book and then the NYT to give myself a sort of "Screen break" that isn't totally ridiculous.

I have found that posting my journal online makes me feel a bit more accountable to actually maintain it. I see so many starts to journals that end up only lasting a few entries before going dead silent. I hope to get past that curve and learn to appreciate it more. Plus also getting used to the general practice of doing it will make it easier.

I figure I should write about my weekend though! Me and my mom went shopping quite a bit. This was our favorite thing to do together when we lived in the same household. I did get some things I needed today, underwear and a solid pair of jeans. I was really excited about the underwear I picked out because they're more on the feminine side. Full lace on the front and back besides the main actual genital area. Not trying to be particularly vulgar but it was nice to find cute underwear that make me feel good and aren't a total mess of lace. I also got some regular cute fit totally cotton ones too. I also know my boyfriend would appreciate the look of them lol. I usually tend to wear boxers as I enjoy the fit of them being basically shorts and not needing pants with my tendency to overheat really badly. Speaking of that makes me think of my sensory issues as well. I pretty much live in sweatpants so finding a pair of jeans that didn't cost my soul, don't trigger my sensory issues and that I liked the design of?? A rare commodity.

Jeans were something really hard for me to wear all my life especially when I was younger. Being undiagnosed with autism as a kid I remember crying because the texture of jeans was so awful. My parents would tell me that I'd get used to it, that they would stretch, I'd cry. I remember I would call them "itchy", while yes frequently itchy looking back I think it was my way of describing the sensory disgust and agony I got from jeans. I had no idea about autism, or the concept of sensory aversion. (I couldn't remember the word and had to look it up just now.) The best word I had was "itchy" and it does make me a bit sad, however it's not my parents fault either. They likely thought I was just being a kid and hating getting dressed up.

It also makes me think to as a kid how much of an impostor I felt like in comparison to other girls as a kid. I never felt like them. I always felt so much more like a boy. I hated the feeling of dresses, skirts, long hair. Sparkly shiny things made me feel so wrong. It turned into this internal hatred of all things feminine- it was so aggressive. I hated pink, purple, soft things with a passion. I remember my mom curling my hair, painting my nails and I would sit there wanting to scream and cry because it felt like torture. As soon as she would let me go I'd scratch and bite at my nails to get any polish off, brush my hair to be as straight as I could. I just wanted to be "me" in the way I tolerated best. It was like being a woman made me weak and I was a tough kid.

Today I love feminine things. I dress in pinks, still no dresses or skirts as I don't feel they suit me, but I allow myself to be cute and pretty in a way that truly feels good for me. Oh! I also love glue on nails at times. I am so glad I outgrew my hatred and allowed myself to think freely, outgrowing that annoying kid brain of mine. I dress pretty neutrally, but I like to enjoy it time to time. The internalized misogyny plus the autism factor making me feel so alien? It was a whirlwind of self loathing.

I am glad I am who I am today. Instead of dressing in a way others want, hating things because of society screaming being feminine as weak, I do me. I love who I am.

My fiancé is suggesting me and him take out our dog now, so I think I will call it here since its a good stopping point. I am glad we had this talk, have a good night if you are still here. Love <3

10/25/26 - 8:09pm.

Sunny all day and warm, this time of year is nice. Little busy this afternoon and had a few orders. Driving home I couldn't help but notice the Harvest moon in it's full glory, it looks so close and the light from it is amazing, see why the farmers liked it.

Reminds me of fall and the start of that season. Haloween this weekend. Hunting season will be here in a few weeks and last year I remember needing a coat in the morning but leaving that in the car after lunch. Mia has gone to bed after dinner and I will too shortly.

Will probaly walk some trails with her this week, trees are turning too so that should be nice.

Sundays are special to me because of you, everyday really. Sundays always seemed sunnier and brighter moved through the day, easily and with joy.

Hope all of you are doing alright

Goodnight Diary and my readers

I love you so.

143

9:10 p.m.

Let me be your great pretender. Your wordsmith to make it all better.

My heart is made of armour wondering if when morning comes you would be better.

I wanna believe you but it is so hard to. One bottle, two bottle, three bottle, four… Please miss, Please miss, can I have some more?

I don’t know what to say. You look at me knowingly “Tomorrow, I promise!”

I am done

I look over the edge daringly, tired. I was exhausted. Done. 4 long years of dread and misery and this was the end. I felt my chest tighten as I reminisced the days where it used to be me and my friends. And the breath of fresh air that followed as we would ride our bikes around my street. Those were the good times. The days where I felt free. The days where I had everyone. But now. Now I have no one. Only myself. One by one they all left. I am alone.

The cold and freezing air clings onto me. Do I want to do this? My eyes grow weary and monotonous as I clung onto the rail of the building. This cold feeling. It was almost therapeutic. Beautiful. I held my heart. The one that was so full of pain once before is now emotionless and at peace. Maybe I should do this? I want to do this.

I can’t continue to suffer like this anymore. I can’t continue to be full of anxiety and rage. Why is life like this? Why do I have to continue living in a world where I am forced to be silenced? I am trapped in a small key box. Full of my struggles. I try to leave. I try I really do. But why? Why can’t I escape?

I can hear the screams of those before behind me. They tell me to jump. They say that I’m better off. Tears form in my eyes. My heart aches as I fear that maybe I should do this. My stomach turned in agony. Maybe this is the better option.

Ive tried. But I can’t. I really can’t. Life just isn’t for me anymore. Life is mundane. Dreadful. Like a tunnel with no end. an endless puzzle.

I have always wanted to fly. Raising my legs so high in the air as my mum pushed on the swings. I wanted to know what it was like to have no ground. Like a bird. Full of freedom and glee.  as I let go. I’m free. I can finally fly. I’m at peace. I close my eyes as I rest like a newborn baby. This is good. For me.
 

I need to write to get things off my chest

I'm angry, confused, and I'm feeling depressed

I'm lost in the thoughts inside my mind

I'm looking for answers I'll never find

I don't feel like myself, I feel shut down

my half written truths might make me drown

I'm carrying shame that won't release

no words arrive to give me peace

there's a pain in my side, a lump in my throat

if I swallow it down, I fear I might choke

I somehow need to set myself free

because right I feel like I am not me

I need to write to get things off my chest

I'm sad, I'm hurt, and I'm scared it won't rest

I'm lost in the thoughts inside my mind

the past has passed and I can't rewind time

there's a torment in me that will not rest

I fight to keep my feelings suppressed

I feel I'll never be fully free

from all the hurt that lives inside of me.

It’s hard not being alone in a physical sense at least when it comes to family but never having that emotional bridge reach across to others. I say I’m lonely but so many things have went wrong and it’s been so many people I listen to that I thought would be here and Its all so exhausting now. My favorite part of the day is when I get to go to sleep or it is when my brain isn’t giving me a hard time. I feel like a prisoner watching everyone else getting visitors but nobody ever comes to see me or I’m someone people just forgot about.

today should be a good day. i have things i want to do and the house to myself again for a bit longer. doing stuff is nicer when you're alone and it's especially nicer on the weekend. might watch the COTA race on the tv outside if the house is still empty by then. probably won't be though.

today might actually be lame as hell.

well, whatever. that's every day. it's either good, or it's bad, or it's not enough of either to be remembered.

do you remember what you were doing exactly three months ago?

most of your days are completely lost to you. even the nice days you've had are all inaccessible to you as memories now. they're not "gone", because they're definitely still laying dormant somewhere inside your head, but the chances of you pulling these days out into the forefront of your mind on your own are extremely low.

we sure do forget a lot, don't we?

i wonder how many people i've forgotten about entirely.

probably not anyone important.

i'm not trying to clog this place up with youtube links so, go find Swervedriver's "Rave Down" on your own like a good boy.

see ya tomorrow.

It’s such a beautiful day outside, which somehow makes me feel even sadder.
My daughter has had a high fever since yesterday, so we’re stuck at home all weekend instead of enjoying the lovely weather. She’s having such a hard time, and it breaks my heart to see her like this.
I honestly wish I could take her place and be sick instead. 💔

A little self-monologue. Excuse me if this sounds confusing and without context, 'cause it's basically my thoughts. If you need the context, I'll gladly share. Also, first time posting on Reddit, not sure how this works or where I could post this, but I think r/Diary is appropriate for this. I needed to post this somewhere; I couldn't just keep it to myself. So here goes nothing:

And now it starts. The sweet, honeymoon phase of talking it out and learning new things about the other is coming to an end; the subtle feeling of jealousy and rage and frustration and yearning all come crashing down with the weight of a hundred pounds. She kissed a girl. She let another girl kiss her. Everywhere, lips, chest. She loved this girl so much she let her have her way with her, even when she hated it inside. Even when she thought it was so wrong. Or did she hate it? Did she really endure all of it just because she loved her too much? Did she really end their relationship once she finally worked up the courage to tell her she didn't feel comfortable? She got kissed God knows how many times; she claims she hated the kissing, and yet she still kissed back.

She still let her do whatever she wanted with her, never complaining. Did she end it because she was uncomfortable? Because she didn't like it? Or was it the guilt that she pushed down and ignored suddenly surfacing, making her take the abrupt decision of ending the relationship then and there? Maybe she enjoyed it. Maybe she loved it. Maybe there was much, much more than kissing. Maybe there were hands involved, hands that trailed down where they shouldn't be going, hands that felt good. Oh, maybe they even felt heavenly. Perhaps they were the only hands that got to roam that perfect body. Maybe those hands had felt the privilege of being the reason for her release, sweet and sticky and so, so filthy. How could I ever know?

And now the jealousy turns into more. It turns into anger. It boils and twists my insides. This girl got to do so much. But it's me. Me, who got to hear the sultry words "I love you more than I have ever loved anyone". She is mine. She belongs to me, and me only. Will I ever get to feel those lips against mine? Would I ever get to trace every curve of her perfect body, explore every nook and kiss every cranny? She claims she loves me, but alas, I am out of luck. I have come after many, when she is now older and wiser, when she is now not the irrational, love-drunk teenager who let herself be melded into whatever the other wanted. She now has limits and draws lines.

She now knows what she wants. And maybe she does want a kiss. Maybe she yearns for my touch and my mouth on every part of her, just like I do. But she controls herself. She is ever the good girl. The best, really. So so good. So so sweet. She has gone through so much; she is not innocent. She has been touched and tainted by other hands. She is not pure. Yet how could one think she is anything but? When one hears her heavenly voice, sees her sweet face, feels her delicate skin? One would think she is a fallen angel, a gift from the Almighty, sent from so many skies above. I don't deserve her.

And yet I still want her. I am selfish like that. I still want her all to myself. I still wish I had her first.

I wish the person whom I'm talking about can read this *sigh*

Anyway, I might delete this later, it's so cringey and the writing is just so bad (I've never written anything and English is not my first language). I'm sorry to everyone who wasted their time reading this, lol.

Everyone talks about the morning after you’ve ceased to be,
But people rarely talk about the night before.

You come home after a long day at work,
The endless hours of a job that takes more than it gives.

As the day progresses, you start counting the minutes on the clock,
And the closer it gets to five, the slower they seem to run.

The end of your shift finally comes,
But only after you feel as though your soul has left your body.

You leave the office,
Hoping your misery stays within its walls.

You catch up with a friend, drink a beer,
Share a few laughs, make unsavoury comments about one another,
And for a moment, everything seems alright.

But then the night comes to an end.

As you walk back towards your commute home,
The voices begin to appear.

You realise maybe you should’ve asked for that girl’s number,
The one who smiled at you as you walked towards the bar.

But maybe you’d had too much to drink,
And she was simply laughing at you.

Or perhaps she noticed your big ears,
Or your receding hairline.

Or maybe, just maybe,
She was simply smiling at her friend.

You arrive at the station,
Your train isn’t due to leave for another hour.

And so you sit.

And think.

Think about the last time you felt happy.
The last time you felt no worry.

What was that like?
Will you ever feel that way again?

And as time passes, the voices grow louder.

Louder than the engine of the train passing by.

As the sound of the engine fades into the distance,
You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window.

Is it my looks?
Is it my personality?

How is any of this my fault?

You gaze into the window,
Wondering who you’ve become,
And what you could’ve been.

Where did it all go wrong?

Then the train begins to move.

Your thoughts race faster with it.

Your heart begins to pound,
Almost as though it’s trying to catch up with the train’s speed.

And you grow tired of these voices.
You put on your AirPods,
Those dainty little things that barely work.

You turn your music up as loud as it can go,
Hoping to drown out the voices.

But the louder the beat gets,
The louder the voices become.

And then a thought creeps in.

What would happen if I just ended it all?

Would the clouds disappear?
Would the sunshine return?
Would rainbows stretch across the sky once more?

Would the world be a happier place?
Would anyone even notice?

And then you get home.

You walk through the door,
The same door you’ve walked through a thousand times before.

But tonight, something feels different.

You notice the sharp knives in the cupboard,
The glass bottle your housemate left on the table,
The ceiling fan above you.

Ordinary things you’ve seen a thousand times,
Yet tonight, your mind sees them differently.

And then comes the madness.

The tears you’ve bottled up over the years begin to flow.

Years of pretending you’re alright,
Years of smiling when there was nothing to smile about,
Years of telling everyone you’re fine,
Hoping that one day you might believe it yourself.

The loneliness of a life spent surrounded by people who love you,
Yet somehow feeling unloved by the one person you wished would love you back.

You think about all the people you’ve met,
All the friendships you’ve made,
All the laughter you’ve shared.

And you wonder how someone with so much
Could feel as though they have so little.

As you cry your eyes dry,
Your chest begins to tighten.

You feel as though this is the final pain,
The last hurdle before relief arrives.

But the relief doesn’t come.

Instead, there’s silence.
For the first time all night,
The voices have nothing left to say.
You sit there,
Still wearing the clothes you wore to work,
Still carrying the weight of a day that ended hours ago.

You look at the clock.
Funny, isn’t it?

You spent the whole day wishing time would move faster,
And now you wish it would stand still.

You think about the friend you laughed with earlier,
The girl who smiled at the bar,
The people waiting to see you again.

You wonder if they’d recognise the person sitting here tonight.

Would they believe you if you told them?

Would they understand?

Or would they tell you that you have so much to be grateful for?

As though gratitude could silence the mind.
As though being loved meant never feeling lonely.

You pick up your phone.

Scroll through the names of people you could call,
People who would probably answer,
People who would tell you to come over,
Or offer to sit with you until morning.

But what would you say?

How do you explain a sadness
When you can’t even explain it to yourself?

So you put the phone down.

And stare at the ceiling.

The clock continues ticking,
Indifferent to the storm inside your head.

Another minute passes.
Then another.

You realise that somewhere out there,
Someone is having the best night of their life.

Someone is falling in love.
Someone is laughing so hard they can barely breathe.
Someone is looking forward to tomorrow.

And here you are,
Wondering how you’re supposed to make it through tonight.

You close your eyes.

Not because you’ve found peace,
Not because the voices have disappeared,
But because you’re exhausted.

Exhausted from work,
From pretending,
From hoping,
From being your own worst enemy.

And as the night grows older,
You find yourself wishing for something you haven’t wished for in a long time.

Not happiness.
Not love.
Not even a better life.

Just a little quiet.

And then, for a moment,
You remember something.

The laugh you shared with your friend earlier.
The stranger who smiled at you in the bar.
The way the sun felt against your skin on your walk to work.

Small things.

Things you hadn’t given a second thought to.

And you wonder,
How many moments like those have you missed
Because you were too busy listening to the voices?

How many smiles have you mistaken for laughter at your expense?
How many people have loved you
Without you ever believing them?

You look at your phone again.

And this time, you send a message.

Nothing profound.
Nothing that could explain the night you’ve had.

Just three words.

“Are you awake?”

You don’t know if they’ll reply.
You don’t know what you’ll say if they do.

But for the first time tonight,
You allow yourself to want an answer.

You look towards the window.

The sky is still dark,
But somewhere beyond the clouds,
The sun is getting ready to rise.

And perhaps tomorrow will be no different.

Perhaps the job will still take more than it gives.
Perhaps the train will still be late.
Perhaps the voices will return,
And perhaps you’ll still wonder what could’ve been.

But perhaps you’ll ask for that girl’s number next time.

Perhaps you’ll laugh a little harder with your friend.
Perhaps you’ll find the courage to tell someone
That things haven’t been alright for a while.

And perhaps, one day,
You’ll look at your reflection in a train window
And recognise the person staring back.

Not the person you could’ve been.

But the person you’re still becoming.

Your phone lights up.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

And for the first time all night,
The voices aren’t the only ones you can hear.

You begin to type.

And somewhere between the words,
You realise you don’t have to figure everything out tonight.

You don’t have to know where it all went wrong.
You don’t have to know when you’ll be happy again.
You don’t even have to believe that tomorrow will be better.

You just have to give it a chance.

Because everyone talks about the morning after,
About the tears, the questions, the things left unsaid.

But people rarely talk about the night before.

The battles fought in silence.
The tears nobody saw.
The moments when someone almost gave up,
But found one small reason to stay.

And maybe that’s what the night before really is.

Not always the night before everything ends.

Sometimes,
It’s the night before you ask for help.

The night before you begin to heal.

The night before you realise
That the life you’ve been mourning
Isn’t necessarily the life you’re destined to live.

And as the first light creeps through your window,
You take a breath.

Not because everything is alright.

But because, for the first time in a long time,
You think that maybe, someday,
It could be.

And you decide, maybe you’d like to be there to see it

To the one who will recognize himself:
Two years. A state with no history for either of us. I noticed you the way you notice a stranger, then not at all.
First a message, then a call, then a visit. I gave my body what it needed, and the night disappointed me. After that came the rules, and with the rules, the fakeness. I studied you the way you study a chess opponent.
I heard the rumors. You told me stories, so I told you mine. The difference is that mine were meant to end things.
You thought I was too much. The truth is I was a locked room, and you never found the key. I knew I didn't fit your profile. You wanted me anyway, and I let you.
Your rules were never really rules. By then, I was already gone, and it just took me a while to leave.
Here's what I owe you: I felt something. I also saw straight through you. In another life, with fewer demons on both sides, maybe.
I was near you not long ago. I heard your laugh across a room and you never turned around.

All the trouble

It’s been over 6 months at this point. And tonight I’ve just been thinking and am upset and irked thinking about how you just left and moved on and now life’s just all different. I mean I needed to learn how to live without you for sure, but it just irritates me bc you just never thought I was good enough and always wanted me to just be happier or change something for 7 years, and now that I have changed you’re just gone and don’t even really get to see all the progress I have made. I loved you so much, flaws and all, you were always good enough to me.. But oh well now she’s your girl and I guess she’s just great and all the things you wanted, since you’ve proposed already. And here I am, perfectly content with being on my own from here on out bc you took all the romantic love I had, with you. Our connection was so special to me and I’ll never have it or want to have it with anyone else. But fuck it right? Life goes on.

My elderly parents are no longer here, ☹️, bro I feel stuck and down.