Dear April

I am done taking care of people. Wanting them to be fine. Making it my priority. Thinking way too much. I am literally done. It is tiring and the worst thing is that they are not worth it.

I want to take care of myself, I want me to be fine too. Because on the whole literally there is no one who actually asks you whether you are fine. I am tired fulfilling others and tired of making ammends for them. Its my turn now. I am gonna be there for me and no one else. Coz they actually dont deserve it.

Or like my friend says now is not the time for them.

To think of it,

I feel I've never been this lonely before.

I've never felt this away from home before.

Maybe it's because I live with another human

Who has a functional family and friends he can go to.

Maybe because I see him making plans, missing people and being there for family.

Maybe because I see them hold him tight.

I've never felt the darkness like this before.

The way the light is shining so far, that when I look the other side.

I see laughter, joy and kinship.

I'm not jealous. I'm not envious. I'm just sad I'm not there holding their hands.

I feel the wind that once blew on my face,

The warmth of the ocean and the joy in those hugs.

I feel the distance from the shore, to the sea and the seamen.

I look at the people beside me. I'm eternally grateful, but I miss those that were once mine.

I've never felt this lonely before.

I've never felt this away from home before.

I diagnosed myself of suicidal tendencies.

I'm over it now

I'm glad I'm over it.

I was fascinated by death

But it's over now.

What would have happened

If my thoughts had gone real..?

If my laziness had not pertained.?

Yes, I was lazy to die too...

I would have jumped off that building I pass through everyday.

I would have been somewhere else now

Food to the worms

And in time would have been just bones and only bones.

Many would have cried....

Some for days, others for weeks, and

Yet a few for months.

But the law of memory would have allowed everybody to forget me.

That's what happens to everybody.

That's normal.

But then, why is it normal..?

Why do we forget..?

We say people are everything

Then why do we forget..?

I know its moving on,

And that it's very essential.

But then, most of the time

The person doesn't even remain in our vaguest memory.

Aniversaries of death in the initial years

Brings back the flood of tears.

But with years, even that dissappears.

So, what significance do people have

What do they mean in life.?

That haunts me today

More than my chaos.

And now, death does not facinate me

But rather the question....

Why does the memory fade away..?

I am doing it again

I thought I was done with it. With this so called "Love". I believed that what I expect of love will never be given to me. I was sure it was all over. 

But here I am sitting on my desk, gazing at my desktop screen, reading all those wonderful texts he sent me. Those lines of poetry that I had always wanted to hear. His words are the petals of the rose named love. But I fear that  the thrones of the rose will prick me in no time.

Maybe  this insecurity of mine is pointless, maybe even meaningless. That's what he told me too......

Maybe I am just fearing a bit too much. Maybe I am thinking too much. maybe........

I hope its just all in my head. And this time maybe it will work out. maybe my insecurity will just be done. he may be different from the rest. I now he is. the better different I hope

true

I don’t want to write about romantic love anymore. I’m not bitter or anything, kinda remorseful in a sense because I have my fair share of heartaches and heavy feelings with guys who aren’t willing to reciprocate what I can offer. But love is so overrated nowadays, it’s like everyone treats romantic love like an oxygen for a dying soul. They treat it as an antidepressant for their lonely mindsets and empty hearts. How about unconditional love from people who cares for us the most? Isn’t it considered a form of love? We all desire for a romantic partner whom we can spend our Friday nights and Saturday morning with. We want to receive sweet morning phone calls and text me when you get home kind of love. We want long car drives with someone while listening to our favorite songs. We want someone to watch our corny horror movies with and watch the stars in night afterwards. We are blinded by the fact that if we don’t get to experience those, we will never be truly happy. But how about the feeling of doing something we really love like reading a favorite novel on a long bus ride and the feeling of the first sip of coffee in the morning? The feeling we get when we see the smile of our parents after receiving good news. The feeling of hugging a sister after few months of not seeing each other. Some moments are being taken for granted while we are so busy wishing for someone who can’t even paint a smile in our faces.

I seek organization in my chaos

I constantly live in chaos but seek organization. I envy those who do great but am not jealous. I love it when someone compliments me, but don't know how to react. I love the fact that I am liked and disliked by a lot of people at the same time.

And all these thoughts bring about a lot of question in my mind. I have been aloof in a long while about everything. I have been pushing away deadlines, stay awake and do nothing. I have wasted my time and energy doing nothing as if I have got nothing.

There is indeed a lot of things I want to do. And that question I was talking about which haunts me is "where is all this leading to?"

I am completely insane about the fact that I have a lot of errands to run and I am still aloof.

It is actually astonishing and weird that I notice all the chaos in life and still do nothing about it. But I know that I am seeking for organization. But something, some force, maybe the biggest enemy of mine is pulling me down. "Laziness"

Its completely strange and crazy to say this, but I think I am responsible for my failure, it is my stupidity of all that makes me react and overreact to unnecessary, well let's say not so important things in life. I am angry at someone for being good and dissapointed in me for staying aloof.

I am not pinpointing anything or infact pinpointing myself. I think its the 3:30 am thoughts. Maybe sleeplessness. Maybe the disturbance in my head. But again there is peace and a sence of calmness in my head. I guess I have a clear head now and the morning would be without the laziness and the aloofness. I guess I'll be fine the first thing in the morning.

I guess its all in your head. And yet again I seek organization in my chaos.

...

I have that one person in life to whom I can be me and still be confident that he wont judge.

Well thats what I believe everytime I meet that person.

That one person changes with time.

Sometimes it's you

And yet other times its him or her or her

Everytime I end up talking hours together

Not leaving the smallest detail of what happened in the day

I fear that he would get bored

That he would not feel anymore.

Today I could sence that he was getting tired of me being excited of the same thing again and again

Maybe I should stop because

Maybe I get too excited about petty things

But I thought he would understand that it means the world to me.

I never thought I would say this for him because till yesterday I had something else to tell.

Yet one more time people have proven that they cant be what they promise to be

And all those promises starts to flow with the rain leaving me all back to square 1.

Thinking what went wrong this time

I grab the tissue box next to me as I weep, while she says she was there just for him and doesn't tell him how much she loves him, because she loves him to let go. I cry. While he says the wrong name at the alter I cry because that's not who he's meant to be with and I cry.

My phone beeps, it's the reminder telling me to write. I close my laptop grab my notebook and stare at the empty page.

I think of what makes me cry, as that's what I'm supposed to write about and I have no clue what makes me cry.

I think of my abusive father, the assaults I've faced, and nothing brings a tear. I think of my first love and how he cheated on me, and go on to think of all the love I've lost and still not a tear.

I stare at the empty page, thinking of lost love and lost childhood, and nothing makes me sad. I've grown hostile to them all.

I give up. Close the book, and that's when I hear the Azan at the distant corner, along with the prayer announcing the Eid tomorrow.

It's been 8 years since I've been home for Eid, I search for my prayer mat and dust the Quran. I'm not religious at all, but the only time I pray is just twice a year, that's the least I can do for some biriyani, and moving out, that's the closest I have felt to home. The azan is what makes me home, it reminds me how my granny rushes to go pray as soon as she hears it; it reminds me of the eagerness I and my little brother used to have during Ramzan to break the fast. It's the closest I feel to home because the only part of childhood I remember till today is my grandpa coming to pick me up from my school, and going to the mosque nearby to pray. It still is my grandpa's mosque to me while he is now buried there, it has become his. The wait to pray tomorrow is what makes me drop a tear, and that's when I realize, the Azan giving me the distant memory of home is what makes me cry.

I set the room for prayer, grab that notebook with the empty page, start writing with tears filling my page and go back to sleep.

Image from @a-small-startup

It physically hurts me 

to see him, her and them

all laughing together.

To have been a part of it once

and now being a mere spectator.

To have had promises made

and to have them easily broken.

It physically hurts me,

to put myself to sleep every night

crying, weeping and consoling myself.

It haunts me that this separation

day in and day out

will pursue, till everything rather everyone vanish

It’s haunting to not understand the cause,

It physically hurts me

to see people I love hate me so much.

It physically hurts me to see that though a lot of people like me

no one understands what I feel

Being around so many people

no one notices that I weep right under their nose.

It haunts me that ‘

the validation rather the acknowledgement of my presence i seek from people will never be understood,

the need for someone around to lend me a ear and understand me will never be understood

It physically and emotionally hurts me.

it’s haunting to live in a place you hate, around people you hate, doing things you hate.

It’s haunting to tell all of this out loud. It’s hurting me inside out. 

Will used to love me when I got nothing but my aching soul.

Seeing the pain seeing the pleasure.

And I could fall or I could fly. Hanging on the words you say.

With you my dear I'm safe

Tell me why I can be there where you are

Its a paradise and it is a war zone

(Songs : "The moon song" "Pillow talk" "Show me the meaning" "Dive")