Tuesday, 17 November 2015


It had been a bit more than a year since you had told someone those words
"I love you"
Admitting that you were helplessly drawn to another person. Making yourself the worst kind of vulnerable. Giving your heart to someone else. You remember how that wrecked you. How you had struggled to live after he left.
How everyone thought you were stupid for making yourself miserable for him but they didn't understand you did not know how to go back to being strangers with someone that has seen your soul.
How it had been 10 months since you spoke to your best friend.
And somehow things were never the same.
You do not know how to tell people he took a part of you with him, how the bits of you left cannot contain anyone else but yourself.
Now no one gets close enough to know you. You managed to leave every beautiful thing that could have been love.
The guy last year, on your birthday dinner, with hopeful eyes and a diamond ring in the pocket of his jacket. You told him not to embarrass you in public.
He never got the chance to bring it up again, that was the last day he saw you.
You just knew they were all going to hurt you.
The one who wanted to know your name the morning after drunken lust and meaningless sex. The one that looked so appealing after your sixth shot of tequila the night before at the bar.
You told him there's no need.
Your friend asks you why you are being difficult and why you have refused to try again, you tell her they are all going to leave, she asks you how you know, you tell her you can smell rejection from miles away.

Sunday, 8 November 2015


Being alive is about feeling things.
To love. Hate. Hurt. Grieve. Break. And be destroyed.
And build ourselves up to be destroyed again.
We are built to survive through pain not manage it or dull the sensation
Because then it never really goes away.
I hope one day your pain will be useful to you.
That it will give you. Strength. Courage. Comforting words to give another
Going through a similar experience.
Or it will give you a a gift.
And one day you will write words that people will find inspiring
Words written with your bleeding heart and tears
Because in your pain lies all the light you currently cannot see
And all the future life has for you.

Friday, 6 November 2015

06- 11-2015

Because this is exactly what's on my mind this morning. 

I don't feel a woman is demanding or selfish when she wants effortless amazing love where the other person treats her exactly how she wants to be treated without having to spell it out to him. 

Virginia Wolf gets me on this.

“I’ve been quite miserable. You’d call me selfish — but I feel it more and more; I feel the need to be alone with people who understand without having to try. I need that sense of effortlessness right there — I just refuse to hold back these days. I refuse to settle for some lucidity of mind in my own privacy and then no more energy left, no more vitality left to keep me going. It’s all anxiety and restlessness. And — I find it more and more hard to waste my time on people I don’t truly care about for I feel they don’t care enough either. Or they do care, in their own way, but it’s just not meaningful to me whatsoever. Does it all lie in my complete inability to receive? At any rate, I think they surely like the idea — that’s why they obviously keep coming around for tea! But at this point, I can’t have that — and there’s no point, really, for they don’t understand, ever, and in all my misery I am still pretty arrogant and demanding enough to believe that it is my right to wish to be felt rather than be understood but that doesn’t seem to happen either. So, here it is: is it possible? I ask. Is “emotion” possible without “understanding” of some sort?”

- Virginia Woolf