I love you, but you’re bringing me down.

All that heartbreak. And pain. And suffering. And then you.

Was it worth it?

It was! Yes. Was it?

I don’t know, but I’m going in. Heart first. I’m doing this. Look! I’m doing it! It’s not as hard as I thought. I just have to let myself go.

Am I doing this right? Is this supposed to make my head spin? I’m getting a weird feeling about this. No one said anything about a rollercoaster. Maybe I should stop this, maybe I should go. Maybe…

Hello. Your smile. I missed that. The hug. It’s warm. Hy. I missed you. I want to…

How did I get here? And how do I come back?

It’s late. I should go. Should I? Do you want me to? No. I’ll go. I have to.

We dance. I stay.

I’m mad! You’re mean! I’ll leave.

Your eyes. Stop it. I need to… Please.

The kiss.  You’re doing it. That thing that you do. If I could just grasp it.

I can’t remember. It was important. I have to try. I can’t just let you…

You. Hy! I’ve missed you.

It’s been… How long? An hour… a day? It couldn’t have been more than a week. What day is it? What month is it? And are we still there? I want to stay. Let’s stay.

It’s warm outside. When did this happen? It seems I brushed the snow off of my shoulders just a moment ago. I liked the cold. It was ours. They won’t take it away from us.

Remember us?

It’s breaking! I can’t hold it together much longer. I’m trying… I need you to…

I… Something is wrong. I… Me.

The warmth. It’s everywhere now. All the time. Stifling. Hot.

All that heartbreak. And pain. And suffering. And then you.

Was it worth it?

It was! Yes.

Was it?


You’re gonna make me lonesome when you go.

I chose this title partly beacause this is the song that I’m listening to right now, and partly because this is the feeling I’ve got. I have been wrestling with a question for quite some time now. What will I do when I grow old? I remember how it used to be when I was little, how in my old neighbourhood, where we lived with my grandmother, the elders would gather some place in the afternoon, talking, reminiscing or watching their grandsons and granddaughters play. I used to love the sense of security and of belonging that scene always gave me. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, protected, safe, happy and at peace. It was like I had my own personal world, that no one could shatter.

For various reasons, I have stopped visiting my grandmother for quite some time now; but recently, I went back there. I was eager to revisit those streets and places that were so dear to me. As I was heading towards there, I could just smell those warm nights, hear the people talking around me, just like a hum, just like a nursery rhime. I got there, and I couldn’t help but being heartbroken. Empty. The streets, the yards, the park, my heart. The street where I spent hours playing, singing, running and laughing, the street that used to be filled with children, with colorful toys, and flowers, and people, empty. I was sad. Not so much for myself, but for those children who will probably never know what it’s like to go home filled with mud, what it’s like to go running to your mamma or granny because of falling down while having the time of your life. I remember climbing trees, playing catch, playing hide and seek, getting dirty, running, screaming, living. They’ll never have that. And it makes me sad. I kept walking, and the empty streets were unraveling in front of me, like a canvas. I could just paint my own images, revisit my memories, it was as if I could see my friend, hear them, be happy with them again. For jsut a split second, I was a kid.

It gave me comfort, having experienced that. I hope I will be able to instill those desires in my own children. I hope they will live in a world where all that will still be possible, accesible.

And for myself… I hope that later, when I shall have done everyting I set out to do, I will be able to sit back, enjoy the ones that I love, watch my children be happy, hold my grandsons… all this in a world that is still ruled by love.

I came home to you.

As I lay in my bed, trying to invest my last bit of energy into something creative, I can’t help but feel a sort of anxiety. The good kind. I can’t get around to falling asleep, as I want the feeling that I have to last a bit longer.

In the midst of the hectic life I seem to be having lately, I took the time to get back in touch with an old love of mine. As I was getting ready, it was almost as if I could sense the scent of it. Oh, how I’ve missed you. It saddens me that I often don’t take the time to do the things I long so much to do, see the people I miss so much, say the things I want to say. It’s something I always encourage in others, but more often than not, giving advice is quite easier than following them yourself.

I knew it was going to be splendid. I reminisced of the last time we got together, of how I felt. But before it all sinked in, I found myself rushing through the door. I was late. Well, no surprise there. I’m (in)famous for my mishaps as far as being there on time. It doesn’t really matter if I’m going to the grocery store, a date or to class, I always find a way to leave a bit later that planned. Headphones on, worries off, it was going to be just you and me. Just like it used to be.

I walked. Faster. And then faster, until I found myself doing a weird speed walking thing. It didn’t matter. I was close. So close.

I was there. I made it. I’m here. I’ve missed you.

The crunch, the smell, the colors, the sounds.

I made it. Peace. Calm. Home.

The forest. Nature. I’m back.


I always seem to find myself torn between the person I am and the person seciety or social etiquette requires me to be. Quite like my father, I am a person of strong principles. I set a standard, for myself and for those around me, and I try, everyday, to live up to it. But more often than not, I find that I have to compromise those very principles I so much care for in order to be part of  a social circle; heck, in order to have any friends at all. Granted, I am quite an “odd duck” when it comes to handling the art of living.

It’s always hard to stay true to yourself; so try to trust yourself, your instincts, people, ponder before doing something radical, find balance, adapt, and most importantly, love yourself. Live firstly for you, but with the interest of others within reach.