Summer is Coming

Summer is Coming

Days become longer but seem to past by faster. Summer is here and this is the one year I wish to push the season back ’til next month…or even next year if ever possible. I don’t want summer to be here.

I’ll miss the cold chills of fall and winter. I’ll miss the comfort of spring. I’ll miss the constantly company within the campus walls.

I don’t want goodbyes to come. I don’t want the year to end. I don’t want the separation to start becoming true.

The faces I see down everyday will soon become a memory. The conversations we had, and the ones we never got to have, will soon flow past us with the wind. The moments we cherished and the memories we made will soon become of the past as we move forward with our lives and take what we can into the next chapter, the next pages.

It is unknown what will become of us. It is unknown what will occur even in the near future. There might be excitement and joy, but there might be pain and sorrow.

I do not wish for it to come so early. I never believed this would come so fast. We all knew it would happen despite all odds, but none of us wanted it to show up at our doors…we all wanted this experience to last.

Goodbyes to the campus. Goodbyes to the friends. Goodbyes to the parents and staff who had helped us through all the tough days and helped us keep walking until the end. Goodbyes to the campus. Goodbyes to the treasure.

Goodbye to our old life as we move on down the road to forever.

I’ll miss the place and I do not know when I’ll return. I’ll miss everything I’m leaving behind and hope one day it’ll still be here for me to say…hi. I’ll miss it here…

It changed a part of me. It brought out new parts of me and it buried others. Everything that happened here has molded me into the person I am today. I will never forget all the lessons I learned and all the memories that, in my heart, will stay.

I don’t want to say goodbye but if I must…I will say “until I see you again”. I have hope we will meet, even if we part ways, in the future and restart this life together again. I have faith that everything will be okay.

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May 17: South

May 17: South

Where am I to go?

There is a path that stands before me. There are many paths that start from where I am. There are many paths that branched off a little back. Is it too late to go back? Should I walk forward?

You can’t erase the past but you can make it right. That’s what I’ve been told. You can’t take back what had been done but you can fix it to make it correct.

Sometimes anyways…

Was it too late to go back? During the past four years, there are things I am not very proud of. During the past four years, there are things I wish I could take back. During the past four years, there are actions I had taken that still haunt me today.

Is it too late to go back and fix things? Make them “right” again?

For some things, the answer to this question is “yes”. I wish it were not, but it is true. This is how things are. This is what I made happen.

The person who lived through my eyes four years ago isn’t the same person who stares back at me in the mirror today. The person who did all those things had been locked up into the deepest corner of my heart and mind, but she yearns to escape and waits for the day in which she will get her way.

I fear that day. I fear myself, in a way.

I know what I am capable of. I know what I can do, what she can do, what she had done.

And there is no way for me to take back her actions or “make them right”.

From where I stand right now, I look back at the paths I could’ve taken and imagine what I would’ve found among those roads. Things would have been different if I had chosen to walk a different route. I would be different from the person I am now.

But I can’t change that. I can’t walk backwards. I can’t go back south and change my decision to walk this way.

There is a future ahead of me…but darkness is all I see. For the things she had done and the things I can never forgive myself for, I see the future ahead does not consist of a light in the dark.

But I still have hope. Maybe I can’t forgive myself yet, maybe I can’t escape from my past, but I can keep walking forward. I can choose correctly now and do something right.

Maybe…just maybe…I’ll even find that light in the dark.

If I’m patient enough, if I’m strong enough, if I’m worthy enough, I won’t need to go back to my past and change everything that I had done.

South

Friends

Friends

Looking back to when I heard the saying “the friends you meet in college are the friends for life”, I had always thought I was fortunate enough to meet my “friends for life” in high school. I thought we were an unstoppable, unbreakable team; we had gone through so much together, grew up together, and bonded over so much. But I might’ve been wrong.

I’ve met these friends. They’re these incredible three people. One knows me and understands me like no other, another has gone through thick and thin with me, and the last had been there through everything.

My first friend:
He was the first person I met who understood some things no one else would get. He was the first person who listened to me like he did, cared for me, took care of me. The way we watched over each other, the way we connected and bonded, the way we joked around and enjoyed life with each other. I will never forget the late night phone calls that consisted of both hours of joking around and hours of deep conversation. I will never forget the days we escaped from life, from the drama around us, from everything. I will never forget those deep brown eyes, that smile. I will never forget him. I will be waiting for him to come back to me.

My second friend:
She was the first friend who was close to me that was a girl. It wasn’t because I was sexist, but I just got along with the boys better. She was one of the only close girl friends I had. She always wished to help me and tried her best to whenever she could. She respected me unconditionally. She believed in me. The way we talked, the way we went to each other for things, the way we got along. I will never forget the conversations we had. I will never forget those worried eyes that looked up to me. I will never forget how we “mother”ed each other. I will never forget her. I will be looking forward to going back to her when I’m more okay, when I’ve found myself.

My third friend:
He was the first friend who put more effort into me when I was in a dark time. He was the first friend who had gone through so much with me and yet still is by my side. The way we weren’t afraid to say the truth to each other, the way we talked and got along, the way we fought. I will never forget all the drama we went through. I will never forget how much pain we went through. I will never forget all the things that were said and promises that were kept. I will never forget all the weird conversations and the random topics. I will be looking forward to hearing from him later on.

We might drift apart now. We might stop being friends for a while. We might not talk for some time. But I know we’ll come back together no matter what. But I know we’ll be okay later on. But I know we’ll always have each other.

May 7: Sacrifice

May 7: Sacrifice

What I would give to have my best friend back, what I would give to gain that relationship back, what I would give to bring the past to present…

A lot has happened since everything happened, a lot has changed during the past duration of time, and a lot cannot be taken back but…

I wish…

…We could pretend it didn’t happen. We could pretend to move on. We could pretend as if it didn’t affect us. We could pretend to be okay.

…We were still the friends we use to be. We were still as close as we were. We were still talking and telling each other endless stories. We were still sending each other pictures. We were still telling each other when the sunset/sunrise was absolutely stunning one particular night/morning.

…We both wanted to work this out. We both had enough energy to put in the effort. We both were in better positions. We both were…okay.

I really want this. This really means more to me than anything. I wish it could work…right now…

Maybe, one day, we’ll come together again and…

…I’ll want to give up everything for this once again. I’ll want to work at this more than anything once again. I’ll want to have this once again.

…We will be stronger. We will be as close as we were. We will be okay.

…You will be in a better position. You will be happier. You will be better.

So much has changed during the past few years, so much can change during the next couple years.

Sacrifice

Fighting Myself

Fighting Myself

A story. The person whose point of view it is written in may not be disclosed. 

It felt like I was losing everyone around me. Everyone was always busy. No one had time for me. I felt as alone as ever. But I knew, because I’ve dealt with depression before, I only felt worse and worse because I was giving into the darkness. I knew there was hope somewhere if I looked in the right place, but whether I wanted to, whether I had the strength to anymore, was another story. I felt useless; I felt betrayed; I felt abandoned; I felt like I was a waste of space.

I knew I needed help. I needed to let my friends help me, since going to get professional help was out of the question. My parents…let’s just say they never thought mental illnesses were real. I knew I needed to let my friends help, but…since they were all so busy and things were…”complicated” to say the least, the people I went to didn’t try to help me. They’ve seen me get through it before. They believed I would be okay in the end. So maybe they thought I could get through it without them. They pushed me off to someone else and from there I got shoved elsewhere, like a dirtbag no one wanted.

That only added to my slipping into depression. I started cutting again. I had been clean of cutting for two years. I slipped a few months before but that was only one. But this time, it wasn’t. I slipped and I got addicted. The pain, it was something I could control. I couldn’t control my best friend leaving me. I couldn’t control the physical pain of my body dying from an unknown illness. I couldn’t control whether my parents got along or not. I couldn’t control whether I had enough time to get all my work done or not. I couldn’t control anything in my life, but I could control the little pain I got from cutting.

One cut, two cut, three, four, five. Soon I was up to ten, fifteen, twenty. There were so many I couldn’t keep track off. Some times I would wait for the few I done before to heal, at least half way, but other times I would cut seven lines on my body without an hour in separation. I lost blood, but it felt as if I was already losing a battle with my own body. Something was killing me from the inside out, something unknown, something…my parents ignored it. Their daughter was dying in front of their eyes, coughing up blood, fainting, and more, but all they thought of it was that she was trying to get attention and she was making it all up.

Of course they would. I learned to add them to list of people who didn’t care about me at a very young age. That’s why I never talked to them about anything. But, faced with depression once again, I needed to talk to someone. I reached out to my best friend. Nothing. I reached out to another close friend. They didn’t know how to help. I reached out to my teacher. I couldn’t get the right words out. Nothing. I reached out, but everywhere I reached I seemed to be grabbing at air. Nothing was ever there.

After a while, I gave up. I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t know where to go. I was a lost puppy in the middle of an ocean, just waiting to die.

I stayed in that darkness for several weeks. I went to classes either as an emotional wreck, or an emotionless zombie (two polar opposite sides of me that would normally work together to balance me out). Everyone knew, even people who didn’t know me very well; everyone knew something was wrong. But, still, no one spoke. No one reached out to me. No one tried to help.

Some of my teachers gave me an easy time in class, which I am very, very grateful for during such a rough time. Others didn’t care. Some of my classmates tried here and there to make me smile, which I am also grateful for. Others laughed. I guess there are many types of people in this world…but no matter which ones I met, no one had the courage to do something to make a difference.

Having lost faith in the people around me, I started to give up on myself. I didn’t believe I’d get better this time around. I didn’t see a route I could take to step back into the light anymore. I didn’t think I would ever feel whole again or feel okay again.

Then…when I hit my lowest point I ever reached, something happened. I looked not around me, not to the people surrounding me, but inside me for help. I looked to myself. I asked myself, are you really going to live like this for the rest of your life? And if you think ending your life is the easiest path to end the pain, are you really willing to give up everything else you love about life?

In those couple weeks, I realized that…I didn’t need anyone else’s help more than I needed my own. I needed to really want to get better, in order to start healing. I needed to stop being so hard on myself for being depressed and for struggling. I needed to give myself a chance to stand back up instead of pushing myself down every other second. I needed to help myself before anyone could help me.

This story doesn’t end here. That’s because this story is happening right now. It’s May 2, 2016 and I am fighting myself to help myself.

Friend. Family? More. Less?

Friend. Family? More. Less?

Conversations start to die down. Time spent togethers gets less and less. Effort put into it…seems to dry out.

I wish I could go back to the time where I knew for a fact that we would be okay no matter what. I believed I would always have you there for me, by my side…through it all. I trusted you unlike any other. But, of course, everything changed.

I am scarred by betrayal. I need to heal from the hurt. But I push it off, wanting to know we would be okay in the end. Will we?

Part of me has confidence in us still. Part of me believes that even if we drift apart now, we’ll come back together stronger than ever. Part of me thinks we’ll be okay and our promises will be kept.

The other half of me has its doubts. The other half of me is scared of letting us go right now. The other half of me does not have faith; it has grown weak and does not wish to put our friendship to chance.

Every part of me wishes we would be okay again. Every part of me wishes you to come back to me. Every part of me wishes…for my friend back.

But I need to grow. I feel the past holding me back. I hope you will come with me into my future. I hope you will one day, if not now, be a big part of my life once again. I hope, one day, we’ll be okay.

I have faith in us. This is what I meant all those times. I have faith that, no matter what, we’ll be okay in the end.

His Light in My Dark

His Light in My Dark

The silence engulfed me within the darkness as I lied in my empty king-sized bed. My breath was shallow, shaky, and slowly quickening in speed. My hands were trembling; my mind was running busily. I want to feel safe. I want to be okay again… I thought to myself. Message after message, I clicked the little buttons on my phone, the only light source I had, and read to reply mindlessly. I can’t take this anymore. I placed my phone down and focused in on the lights from the city below through my bedside window. The mixed light from the cars, buildings, and streets painted little dots of color onto the black canvas that we call nighttime. Maybe everything will be okay in the end. When I picked up my phone once again, I read the words, “I’m here if you need me, no matter what time. If you need me, don’t be afraid to call me no matter what I am doing. Ok? I’ll answer.”

I’ve heard these words before. These are the words people always say. They are the words of lies. I hadn’t heard this in a while…but it can’t be any different from all the other times…or is it? It has to be different…it has to be. I take a slow and long breath, breathing the cold night air deep within my lungs. Even with all the butterflies that fluttered within and the warm feelings I got, I still had my doubts. When someone randomly comes along and gets you like no other, spends time on you like no one else, puts effort in you when other’s don’t bother, you automatically think something is wrong and expect the worst. I sighed, my breath warming up the icy air in front of me in a foggy smoke cloud, and thought, When is he going to leave…like everyone else who promised they’d stay?

After years of torment, betrayal, regrets and self-punishment, there wasn’t a way to take that leap of faith and trust with my whole heart. But that’s exactly where I found myself. It has to be different. He believed in me when I couldn’t find it possible to believe in myself. He encouraged me and supported me when I had every doubt. He’s different. Before him, I had given up on finding the acceptance and what others said I truly deserve. But he saw beauty in me where I only discovered darkness. I smiled. He proved to me that I could be accepted, even by someone who knew me like the back of his or her hand. He showed me I could have faith in myself, that I can love myself. He did. It was possible for me to do the same.

I clung onto my pillow and blanket; the soft and light fabric silently laid over me. The noisy thoughts in my mind suddenly vanished. My breaths became calmer; my hands shook a little less. I read the words again and again, slightly squinting at the bright light that came from my screen, “I’m here if you need me, no matter what time. If you need me, don’t be afraid to call me no matter what I am doing. Ok? I’ll answer.” I don’t believe it. I read it again, and again, and again. I read the message until it stuck and I believed it to be true.

He cares about me. His words are genuine and true. I can trust him. We’ve gone through so much together. The flaws I see within myself don’t matter beside the beauty he sees in my scars. The mistakes I’ve made and the regrets I have, all the negativity I see within myself don’t come to compare to the light he believes I bring. Everyone always said one who judges themselves will never see as much beauty as when judging someone else. Maybe this was one of those times where I was only harder on myself because I wasn’t looking in from the outside. Maybe it’s possible for me to love myself. Maybe it’s possible for me to see beauty in the things I do and create. Maybe I can believe in myself. Maybe I can chose my own path and be who I am without looking for everyone’s approval. I believed others could find acceptance for themselves. Now it was my turn.