Monday, Jul 14

I woke up and began to feel every emotion I had, all rushing in at exactly 9 a.m. I thought of going out to buy two cigarettes, just to quiet what I felt inside.

When I got home, I saw another cigarette—left for me by Ate Amor the night before. Now I had three. I lit one and thought of you. Thought of the reason I smoke. I didn’t want to smoke—I stopped years ago. But now I’m here, Intoxicating myself just because I love a boy.

I felt sorry for myself, for coming back to this place. I lit the other two and watch them burn without smoking them.

I almost thew up. Almost cried.

Why am I here? I never wanted to be in this place.

I just want to be loved. I just want connection. I just…I just want someone to want me. 

I ended the day lying in bed, wondering, pondering where I went wrong.

When all I ever did was love—genuinely.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

  Tuesday, Jul 15 You haunt me every time I close my eyes. I thought this would be different from the others, but tonight when I try to fall asleep, my mind remembers you so vividly that it projects your face like a silent film and plays your voice—the way it once cradled me on the nights I missed you—like a lullaby I never wanted to forget. Five days have passed since we last spoke, and regret trails behind every word I said—words born not from truth, but from the pain you’ve caused. I hate that I wanted to catch your attention by selling the shoes you gave me, hoping you’d ask why, just so I could ask why you hurt me. Why you left me hanging? You are not the cruel words I spoke to the guy you chose over me—those words were not truth, they were my armor. I needed something to help me hate you. To start resenting you. But I couldn’t. I love you too deeply.  Too honestly. And because of that, I can’t find it in me—to resent you for what you did to me. All I ever wished was to r...
Read more

Where grief leads me.

  Foreword Where Grief Leads Me is not a collection of answers. It’s a map of the places heartbreak took me—in the sleepless hours where memory refused to fade, in the moments I tried to hate someone I only ever loved, in the silence between apologies I never received.  You might find recognition of your own ache echoing back through mine. Because grief doesn’t just end. It leads us somewhere we never knew. And this collection is me—us, following it to the edge—a heart that still dares to hope.
Read more