Monday, May 15, 2017

Drowning as I breathe

It's time for a post! Aka time for me to rant relentlessly.


So these past few weeks has been dragging me back and forth across a hard, sharp surface, wounding me in every possible way and I've been nothing but weak and falling into the hands of the darkness. Because of this, I haven't been quite myself, struggling with the simplest of things like getting out of bed to following my routines. Let's flash back to a few years.

My parents raised me to be an independent woman. When I'm feeling myself, I know that the freedom and independence they have given me especially was to teach me to walk on my own two feet and I consider myself self-reliant. But I never realized that because of the way I was raised, I became emotionally reliant to others, desperate for validation to see the value of my self-worth. I was desperate for love from my parents, I was desperate for validation from others, I was desperate to grow up and show everyone that I could make it. Well I was wrong. And I've dragged myself so much, one could say I developed a lot of insecurities because of it. And it's time to stop.

I cut myself from one of the few people I truly loved because of an incident and I did it so drastic that it broke me. But how does one say that he/she loves others when they destroy another relationship because of that love? I don't know. Yesterday I crashed and burned and I crawled back to my past spot, hoping that maybe it would heal me. You know how people say that you cannot love others if you don't love yourself first? It's something like that. You cannot be reliant on others to love you while you are breaking, tearing and putting yourself down. And I've been so insistent on getting and finding love that it broke me. Physically and emotionally. And it's time to finally break the bad habit.

But today, for the first time in many days that I was out of bed for a whole day, I finally felt the thrill of living again. I finally looked forward to something, and I finally was content. Maybe it's just for the day, but that's okay. We live day by day, there's no need to feel the pressure of being happy for a long periods of times, it's okay to break once in a while. Then you get up. Then fall. And repeat the process. That's what life is about, right?

Monday, March 6, 2017

Hey there.

I've realized that I've never really written about myself on here, and today I just would like to say a few things.

1. I'm schizophrenic. Yes, that schizophrenic. I've battled with schizophrenia since I was a child, but I've only been diagnosed with it about 3 years ago. I also have social anxiety, depression and bipolar, which makes me have schizoaffective disorder.

Here is a link that will explain what it is;

http://www.nami.org/Learn-More/Mental-Health-Conditions/Schizoaffective-Disorder

A lot of people, especially friends are not aware of this, and yes, I seem pretty normal. It's just a mental thing, and I've struggled daily on fixing myself and fitting in, because what I'm scared of the most is standing out so much that people are intimidated by me. Because of this disorder(s), I've seen psychologists, counselors and therapists. I've stopped therapy for a year now (I think) and counseling for quite a while.

I know what you're thinking, schizophrenia, isn't that disorder linked to something else? Oh, I don't know, aggression? No, not necessarily. Though I do have a bad temper and I used to lash out to people, schizophrenia patients rarely pose harm to people or themselves. As for bipolar, having hypomania has really changed a lot to how I perceive the world. When I'm euphoric, and everything seems better, I feel more grateful towards life to the point that it becomes a sort of addiction. That's another thing that I want to write down.

2. I have addiction(s).

Apart from self-harming and overdosing, I have this bad habit of going back to smoking. I know, I know, it's bad and it's haram. But when I'm feeling extremely low, my impulses drive me back to it and I can't really help it or myself. And I've ended up at the ER countless of times now. I also just got back from there. Heh.

3. I've struggled with my sexuality.

This, I've never truly discussed with anyone, mostly because I was afraid and I'm still afraid. Struggling with sexuality does not mean that I liked girls, or that I didn't like boys, or whatever, it also means that I've grown up hating the fact that I was a girl. I don't know if that makes sense, but I always thought I was born the wrong gender. I was scared of girls pretty much my whole childhood and even now being around girls give me so much anxiety that sometimes I just avoid them. And I know it makes me seem like I hate them or something. So if I have run away from you, no, it's not that I hate you, it's me. I just have a problem or something. I don't know.

4. I had a hard time opening up.

I think the first time I've encountered this problem was when I was 15 years old and I was away from my family for the first time. I was having really bad homesickness and I couldn't talk to anybody, I mean, I was so depressed, but when I was brought to the doctor, I couldn't say anything. What did the doctor tell me? Open up. That was it, that was all, and I've been trying to be more open with my emotions and feelings ever since.

5. I have a scrict policy when it comes to my friends.

I don't know why, and I don't think I've told anyone this before, but when it comes to my friends' pictures of themselves or babies (ESPECIALLY), I just won't like them (on Facebook). I won't comment on them unless absolutely necessary. Not because I don't like them, but because I am very careful to sharing my friends' private lives with other strangers. And you know what they say, the evil eye is very real and very frightening. So if you find me not liking your posts.. you'll know why.

There are other things that I would like to put here, and I don't mean for this to be for a cry of help. No, I'm not trying to reach out, I'm not telling the internet I have issues. I'm sharing mine to tell my friends especially and others, that it's okay. It's perfectly fine, you know? So what, I'm a little crazy here and there, but aren't we all? I'm a mess, but aren't we all? I hope this makes other people feel a little normal, but I had a hard time accepting my (abnormalities)self.

Till again.

Thursday, March 2, 2017

I'm dying.

"You're dying."

That was all. That was it.
I looked at the doctor, hoping for more. Why didn't she say more? That's all? I'm dying? No explanations?

I cleared my throat, rubbing the back of my head, "H-how? I feel perfectly fine." That's when my doctor started to explain, something about cancer. Cancer. I heard her, but I wasn't really listening. Not when she told me I had 3 months left, not about my treatment and all the chemotherapy. I cleared my throat again, and tried to remember what the past month had been like.

I've been tired, more so than usual. To top that, I've been having migraines, nose bleeds and blackouts. But how could I have cancer? At the age of 24? It seemed impossible. I started to ask again, but the doctor could see my denial and the way I was excessively trying to swallow and clear my throat, as if it would help the situation.

"Is there anybody who can come and take you?" She finally said, much to my relief, but it added to my anxiety. I was 24, I had no close friends, no family, no spouse. Nothing. "Jeff?" I snorted. The doctor must be kidding. There was no way I was calling him. "Unless you have someone better." I sighed deeply and shook my head quietly.

Half an hour passed as I sat in the waiting room in front of my doctor's office, waiting for the man. Jeff came, in his signature soft blue buttoned-down shirt and black slacks, meaning he came straight from his office.

"Jane?" I didn't look at him, just stood up and walked. I assumed he followed because I heard footsteps from behind and walked to the parking lot. He opened the  door for me, and instead of rebelling like I always did, I took it and got inside his car. It smelled the same citric smell, the way I liked it. "Jane," he started again, "Ms. Grey told me everything. How are you feeling?" I simply shook my head, how are you supposed to feel when you have 3 months to live? When you have cancer? I started to get choked up, and Jeff left it at that. He drove in silence, took me home and didn't call for days on end. I was starting to think that he gave up on me. Maybe he was tired of me giving him the cold shoulder for years, that he was forced to be there for me because I was simply dying. Maybe that was it.

But he showed up again a few weeks later at one of my sessions.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Drugged (continuously edited)

"She doesn't want to see you."

I was baffled. "Why?" I demanded. I tried the door but it was locked. She never locked the door, not when she knew I was coming around. I faced her secretary, "Why?" I asked again, over and over, as if his answer would change.

He simply shrugged, "She doesn't want to see you."

That made me sit down, well, more like dropped on my rear. I tried replaying yesterday, and the day before, the week before, the month before... Where did I go wrong? What happened? What did I say? What.... I remembered she had a hospital appointment the day before. Was that why she had shut me out? Because something was wrong with her? I sighed and stood up on my heels, straightening my dress slightly as I took out my notepad, wrote down a message and placed it on the secretary's desk. I didn't know if he would even relay the message, but a girl could certainly hope. Maybe. I walked away all the same, wishing she would read the note.

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She was finally gone. I heard everything she said behind my door, mostly because I was sitting down behind it, my knees up to my chest. I didn't have to see her face to know what she was feeling; she probably felt she did something wrong, or that she said something wrong. The way she said "why" explained everything to me - I knew the woman long enough to know that she was confused. Probably hurt. Probably hating me. But I had to shut her out. What if she knew? How crushed would she be? I could barely think about it without breaking apart myself. I had to save her. If I couldn't save myself, let me save the woman. Let me, God, just let me. Just this once.

My secretary unlocked the door, walked in and placed a note on my desk, ignoring the way I was down on the cold, hard floor. He wouldn't understand so I didn't feel the need to explain. I knew what it was; the note was in the woman's favourite colour and I could probably figure out what she wrote on it.


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I missed her. I miss her so much,  I thought to myself, trying my best not to get choked up. It felt like I was being selfish. Maybe I was. But for once, I didn't care. I had to see her. I had to know. I had to-

"You can't be mad at her for leaving when you were the one who pushed her away all this time."

I was cut short as I remembered this excerpt. I wanted to swallow, but my mouth was dry. My throat didn't make any movements and I was desperate for a movement. I knew it was true. I pushed her away more than I could bear to count. But she stayed all the same... what if she got tired of fighting for me, when I stopped fighting for myself all those years ago when he had left? That must be the reason. She didn't want to see me because she was sick and tired of the way I acted. She was tired of me. She was sick of me.

If there was a summer breeze running through my hair, I didn't feel it. I wasn't walking anymore, I was frozen in place in front of the building where she was worked. People walked by me, almost through me, as I stood still, my eyes down at the white pavement. Somebody must have shaken me, because I heard a voice. I conjured up whatever energy I had in me to face whoever standing in front of me, hands still on my shoulder. I tried smiling - nothing. I tried to speak - nothing. Before I knew it, my breakdown crept over me, making me fall into this stranger, this bless of a man, who just dropped down with me as I cried and cried in his strong arms. My face was buried on one of his shoulders, smearing my salty tears all over his suit. But he didn't seem to mind, that's what I had wanted to believe. I think he tried asking what was wrong, but I couldn't talk. Not with the way I was bawling my eyes out. Somehow I slipped away from the stranger's arms and left for home. I didn't know where that was anymore, but I couldn't stay any longer. I had to, I had to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Not here.


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I was crushed. When she froze, my heart shattered. The broken pieces broke into more little pieces. And when she fell into his arms, I held myself back so much, resisting the urge to hold her in my own arms. I couldn't, I wasn't entitled to. Maybe I did before, but now, it wasn't my place. The sounds of her crying made a tugging motion in my chest, I couldn't breathe, just stood there and watched as she cried. Over me. This woman was crying over me. If only she knew. If she knew the truth... there probably would be more than tears. My cowardice caused her to breakdown. I broke her. I did this. Warm tears streamed down my face, but I ignored it. It felt selfish of me to cry as well. I exhaled deeply, as silently as possible so that the duo didn't notice my presence. I was startled when she stood up so suddenly. I knew what she was going to do, she had to go somewhere. But where? I had to figure it out; I shut her out but I couldn't leave her alone. She was impulsive and spontaneous. If she... it would be entirely my own fault. I couldn't let that happen, but maybe that was an excuse for me to follow her around.

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I didn't know where I was heading, but I was hoping to reach a destination. Anywhere would have sufficed, but I realized I just ended up at her front door. I walked back and forth on her front steps, knowing she wasn't home because she was obviously at work but I decided to try the door. Locked. I didn't have a spare key and I suddenly hated myself for dismissing it when she offered me one. I took a deep breath and I could've sworn I caught a glimpse of her. Maybe I was starting to hallucinate, that would be the logical explanation. But logic didn't seem so logical anymore. I hated not knowing, I hated being left out in the cold but I had no one to blame but myself. I was away for several weeks at a time, and I had depended on her reaching out to me first. When she didn't, I simply assumed she was busy. She was constantly busy so I didn't think much of it. But maybe I should've started a conversation every now and then, especially during my last trip. I tried to justify my actions, but I couldn't even do that. I should've said something, did something. But I didn't because I had so much pride and ego in me, that I just simply couldn't. There was a slight throbbing in my head and my chest felt constricted, so I decided to breathe some more. I decided to just walk away. For now. I would come back later, I told myself. Maybe now is not a good time. There was a lot of maybe's, because I wasn't sure of anything anymore. A thousand different thoughts went through my mind as I walked away, turning my head back every now and then towards her house until I was in my car and the house was out of my sight.

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I followed her silently, keeping a close distance in case she noticed me, because then my shutting her out would be silly. I watched as she went up to my front door, trying the door. It was so like her, she tried doors, even though she knew perfectly well it wouldn't open. It was just the way she was. She was blindly optimistic about everything and anything, knowing well that things wouldn't simply go her way. But she tried regardless, and I admired that about her. She didn't know, because I didn't voice my thoughts as often as I should. I regret never telling her how much I adored her, how much I admired her, how much I loved her. Was it too late now?

Since she ended up at my house, there was one place left where she would go at times like this.

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Drugged

"She doesn't want to see you."

I was baffled. "Why?" I demanded. I tried the door but it was locked. She never locked the door, not when she knew I was coming around. I faced her secretary, "Why?" I asked again, over and over, as if his answer would change.

He simply shrugged, "She doesn't want to see you."

That made me sit down, well, more like dropped on my rear. I tried replaying yesterday, and the day before, the week before, the month before... Where did I go wrong? What happened? What did I say? What.... I remembered she had a hospital appointment the day before. Was that why she had shut me out? Because something was wrong with her? I sighed and stood up on my heels, straightening my dress slightly as I took out my notepad, wrote down a message and placed it on the secretary's desk. I didn't know if he would even relay the message, but a girl could certainly hope. Maybe. I walked away all the same, wishing she would read the note.

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She was finally gone. I heard everything she said behind my door, mostly because I was sitting down behind it, my knees up to my chest. I didn't have to see her face to know what she was feeling; she probably felt she did something wrong, or that she said something wrong. The way she said "why" explained everything to me - I knew the woman long enough to know that she was confused. Probably hurt. Probably hating me. But I had to shut her out. What if she knew? How crushed would she be? I could barely think about it without breaking apart myself. I had to save her. If I couldn't save myself, let me save the woman. Let me, God, just let me. Just this once.

My secretary unlocked the door, walked in and placed a note on my desk, ignoring the way I was down on the cold, hard floor. He wouldn't understand so I didn't feel the need to explain. I knew what it was; the note was in the woman's favourite colour and I could probably figure out what she wrote on it.


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I missed her. I miss her so much,  I thought to myself, trying my best not to get choked up. It felt like I was being selfish. Maybe I was. But for once, I didn't care. I had to see her. I had to know. I had to-

"You can't be mad at her for leaving when you were the one who pushed her away all this time."

I was cut short as I remembered this excerpt. I wanted to swallow, but my mouth was dry. My throat didn't make any movements and I was desperate for a movement. I knew it was true. I pushed her away more than I could bear to count. But she stayed all the same... what if she got tired of fighting for me, when I stopped fighting for myself all those years ago when he had left? That must be the reason. She didn't want to see me because she was sick and tired of the way I acted. She was tired of me. She was sick of me.

If there was a summer breeze running through my hair, I didn't feel it. I wasn't walking anymore, I was frozen in place in front of the building where she was worked. People walked by me, almost through me, as I stood still, my eyes down at the white pavement. Somebody must have shaken me, because I heard a voice. I conjured up whatever energy I had in me to face whoever standing in front of me, hands still on my shoulder. I tried smiling - nothing. I tried to speak - nothing. Before I knew it, my breakdown crept over me, making me fall into this stranger, this bless of a man, who just dropped down with me as I cried and cried in his strong arms. My face was buried on one of his shoulders, smearing my salty tears all over his suit. But he didn't seem to mind, that's what I had wanted to believe. I think he tried asking what was wrong, but I couldn't talk. Not with the way I was bawling my eyes out. Somehow I slipped away from the stranger's arms and left for home. I didn't know where that was anymore, but I couldn't stay any longer. I had to, I had to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Not here.


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I was crushed. When she froze, my heart shattered. The broken pieces broke into more little pieces. And when she fell into his arms, I held myself back so much, resisting the urge to hold her in my own arms. I couldn't, I wasn't entitled to. Maybe I did before, but now, it wasn't my place. The sounds of her crying made a tugging motion in my chest, I couldn't breathe, just stood there and watched as she cried. Over me. This woman was crying over me. If only she knew. If she knew the truth... there probably would be more than tears. My cowardice caused her to breakdown. I broke her. I did this. Warm tears streamed down my face, but I ignored it. It felt selfish of me to cry as well. I exhaled deeply, as silently as possible so that the duo didn't notice my presence. I was startled when she stood up so suddenly. I knew what she was going to do, she had to go somewhere. But where? I had to figure it out; I shut her out but I couldn't leave her alone. She was impulsive and spontaneous. If she... it would be entirely my own fault. I couldn't let that happen, but maybe that was an excuse for me to follow her around.

Her 2.0

"She called me a dork once, and it stuck with me even after all this time. It must be true. It was true. I was a dork. I was an idiot. I was a fool. I was desperately hanging on to something that was vague. It didn't have a line, it wasn't specific. I knew what the woman meant; I was in love with an idea. But it didn't feel so bad at the time. I only discovered much later what everyone was trying to warn me about. Although by then, I was already down in the hole I dug up for myself and now I have no idea how to get out. And I don't know if I even want to escape."

Sunday, October 9, 2016

Promise

I couldn't believe it.


I couldn't believe it, when I picked up the call from the hospital telling me what happened to you. I assumed they called me because you had put my name as your emergency contact number. But I never knew I'd find out this way.

I barely blinked on my way over, gripping the steering wheel so hard it might have snapped into two. I wasn't in a rush, I tried so hard to keep my calm. But I was far from calm. How do I believe this? It was a normal sunny day in March, the flowers were everywhere, your favourite kind was in the back seat of my car. I tried to swallow. Nothing. I felt nothing.

All those times you had told me, what I should do in case something like this happened. But I always thought you were being silly. I remember telling myself, "She's just being silly." You wanted flowers, bright yellow flowers to be there in my hand when you took your last breath. But I couldn't be there when you breathed your last, I told you to wait until I came back. Why didn't you?

I fought back tears welling up in my eyes when I finally saw you. You were lifeless. You were so pale, I wanted to hug life into you. But I knew that was a lost cause. So I just sat there on the wooden stool as the doctor pulled down the white blanket over your cold body. Was your body cold? I was afraid to find out. I was afraid to find out if the woman who had been screaming at the top of her lungs when I didn't want to take my medication, who fought me over what colour the walls of our house should be, who tackled, pounced and lunged at me whenever I came around. I was afraid to find out that the woman who had the brightest smile, who made my heart skip several beats just by walking towards me, was cold. No, I didn't want to believe. I almost turned around to the other doctor, asking if this was my best friend. I didn't want to believe it. This wasn't her, this wasn't her, this wasn't her... Your flowers were there, if you are watching me from above, I kept my promise.


But I could never prepare myself for the day of your burial.


Everyone was there, EVERYONE was there. Even people you thought would never come. But they were there to pay their last respects. I tried to breathe. Nothing, again. Your mother was there, putting her hand on my shoulder, trying to reassure me the best of her ability. How could she be so calm? Why was I so lost? How do I pretend I'm okay, when the day you passed away, was the day we were supposed to sign off on our house? We were supposed to finally live together. I signed off on it, anyway, just so you know. You know, don't you? But I was restless in my black dress, the dress you picked out yourself. You always joked how when you were gone, I was supposed to look pretty. I scoffed on the idea. But here I am, in the same dress you bought me all those months ago. I didn't hear a thing that was said, I didn't respond when the priest asked me if I wanted to say some words. Your mother tried shaking me, and she shook her head.

I tried to remember the last time we were together. I was packing in my apartment for my trip away for three days across the country. You wanted to follow, you were begging me to stay with you, but I had told you that you couldn't. I wouldn't have had time to pay attention to you if you had followed. But you insisted anyway, you said you didn't want to be alone. But I had to go, you know that, don't you? You couldn't let go of my hand on the way over to the airport, up until I had to finally go. I hated leaving you by yourself, but I knew you could take care of yourself. You forced me to look at you but I had kept my head down. I was fighting back tears back then, but I think you knew that. So you kissed my forehead, gripped my hand for what seemed like the millionth time, and told me to have a good time, to take my medication, to not skip meals, to sleep well and all those other things. The same thing you would tell me every time I had to go on a trip far away from you. But I didn't understand why you had been so... I don't even know what the right word is. Looking back, I should've stayed. You lifted my chin up the same way you would so that you could look at me. You had a smile of your face, but it was so very sad. My heart shattered at the sight of it. Instead, I just hugged you tightly, pecked your cheek and flashed the best grin I could muster up. If only I had known that was the last time you were standing in front of me. I could have told you that I loved you. Did I ever tell you I love you? I can't seem to remember.


I still remember the day we met. I remember the exact time, the exact day, the exact date. I remember what you wore perfectly. It was 6:05pm on a Tuesday, 28th October 2007, you were wearing a purple dress and I caught a glimpse of you from across the street. I remember how my jaw dropped at the sight of you. You didn't know it then, but it was the exact moment I gave away my heart to a complete stranger. Some man ran towards you, making you fall. I didn't know if I was holding anything, but I ran, ran as fast as I could towards you as cars honked at me, and extended my hand to help you up. But you had insisted that you could get up on your own. I couldn't help but chuckle. You never wanted help, you didn't want any even though you were on the ground. I helped you up anyway and you scoffed at my effort. I was slightly hurt that I had literally sacrificed my life for you and you simply scoffed. I offered to walk you home and once again, you had insisted that you couldn't make it back on your own. But I rolled my eyes because you were limping, that's why you had fallen down. You didn't want to hold onto me so I thought maybe I could drive you home. I could tell that you were a little distrustful over a woman that was being so nice to you, but I just flashed my best grin. Somehow that made you smile. I never felt so accomplished in my life.


After they buried you, I just stared at the ground. Once again, your mother had tried to reassure me. She lost her daughter, but I lost my whole life. But she must have felt so kind of pain, right? I looked at her, you had her brown hair, her hazel eyes and I tried to swallow again. Nothing. She just smiled warmly at me, but I couldn't break down and cry at your grave. I had promised you I wouldn't. So I fought back the tears with all my strength as your mother pulled me away. She sat me down at your family's house, I still remember the feeling of the couch you constantly tried to tickle me on. It brought a sad smile to my face. Your mother pulled out a piece of orange paper and walked away.


I knew what it was, because my hands were shaking when I opened it. It read,

"Hey babe!

If you are reading this, I most probably would have been gone. You kept your promise right? The flowers, the dress, the no crying part. Yadi yada." I scoffed. I can't believe you actually wrote that.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't wait. It's not like I could tell the angels to wait for you to return so that you could be there for me. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry it took me so long to open up to you, when you had been so open with from day one. You don't know this, but I fell in love with you at first sight. Crazy, isn't it? The girl who doesn't believe in love fell in love with a complete stranger. You even drove me home. I was 19, wild and somehow you locked me down. You don't know this, too, but your grin was everything to me. It gave me hope, that tomorrow was going to be a better day. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I was already sick the day we met. But my condition didn't get worse until much later. You made me want to live, that's why I had been holding on for so long." You fool. Why didn't you tell me?

"Babe, I love you. I kept telling you, but you never want to believe me. So I hope when I'm gone, you'd believe me. I really, truly loved you. I will always love you." I felt a single tear down my cheek.

"I'm sorry." Stop apologizing. "All those times you tried to be there for me, and I just... I just pushed you away. But it never stopped you from being there for me. The day you stood in front my house on your 20th birthday, and it was raining but I didn't want to see you because we had a terrible fight. You stood there until morning. It was your BIRTHDAY and I acted like such a bitch. You are several years younger than me, you were 17 when we met, but you had always been much more mature than me. You patiently waited for me every time I got into a relationship and had left you out in the cold. I couldn't understand it, why didn't you just walk away? I know now, you loved me, didn't you? You love me, don't you, babe? You didn't have to tell me, I could tell by the way you looked me, tilted your head, how you curled your lips when I screamed at you. I yelled at you many times, didn't I? I'm sorry. But I was only doing it for your own good. At least that's what I told myself." I exhaled deeply, leaning back to the couch before I continued reading your words, before I hear your voice inside my head as my eyes studied your neat handwriting. You had always been messy, but your writing was always put together.

"Babe, you stayed through everything, you were there for me even though you yourself didn't know it. The last man I was with broke me into a million pieces and you were patient, holding onto me as I cried into you. You were so tiny, but you felt so strong with me. I still remember how your face lit up when I told you that I wanted to live with you. You weren't like me, which was a relief. You didn't jump into relationship after relationship to feel something. You didn't sleep with everyone, you were always so pure and innocent. But I didn't find out why until much later. You weren't simply saving yourself, you were cautious over who you loved. And you only loved me." You knew. Of course you knew.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be the woman you thought I was. At 28, I was still trying to figure out the person I was but you had figured everything out even at such a young age. I envied you, you know? I was jealous over everything you did, and everyone you had met. I was scared that when you found the right girl, you would leave me the way I did. But you didn't. And I watched as she made you happy the way I could've. But I was too scared. God, if only I wasn't such a coward. But you left me with your heart, you wanted to hold onto it until you were sure you could give it away to someone else. But you never asked for it back. So I guess I'm giving it to you now. Be careful with it, and take care of my heart, too. I know it's a big responsibility, but you can do it, I know it." Your mother came back around finally, her eyes were red, probably from crying as she handed me a box.

"In the box, is everything I saved from the times we spent together. Yes, baby, even the ring you gave me on my 24th birthday. I could never wear it because I was so afraid of losing it. You can probably check out the contents yourself. I guess, what I'm trying to say is, that I'm not saying my farewell. I'll be there with you, in spirit, in heart, in everything that you do. I have always been. But for now... Take care of yourself. Eat well. Sleep well. Stop overexerting yourself and don't forget to take your pills.

I love you,
xoxo Mary"


I finally felt air enter my lungs again. I felt relief wash over me, it felt like a huge burden was lifted off of my shoulders. I went back home to my apartment, into the arms of my lover. I'll paint the walls of our house the colours you wanted. I'll decorate everything the way you wanted. But I'm going to live there with my woman if you don't mind. I'll raise the kids you wanted. I'll do the things you wanted me to do. Most of all, I'll start loving myself the way you had loved me.

Thank you. Thank you for everything. And goodnight for now.