inner struggle

So just tell me, what do you do when things like lies and deceit are more common than common sense? What do you do when person after person around you resorts to the same thing? It’s like they have one mind, and not in a good way. What do you do when you get more disappointed each day because of the people you gave your trust to, your faith, the chance to prove you wrong? Are you gonna drown yourself? In drinking? In exercising? In fucking? In getting high? In yourself? Are you? You take a minute to look inside you, and you’re surprised by what you see there. The person who always saw the good in people almost had enough. And that means … you let people fuck you up one too many times. What now?!

I was 26 when I almost lost faith in humanity. Don’t get me wrong. I love people. And I appreciate their uniqueness and their beautiful bodies and souls. But sometimes you forget about all that and you focus on the bad things. I got lied to, time and time again. I met jerk after jerk. I tried to establish connections with people who didn’t know what a connection really is or with people who just didn’t want to give me the time of day. I was sitting last night drinking my coke in a corner and I was looking around me. There are so many people. But nobody sees me. They laugh and have fun with each other. And that’s absolutely fine by me. But do they think I’m worth it? Do they think I am smart? And cute? And considerate? Do they think I am a good friend? Do they see my inner struggle and that it almost got me to my knees? Do they? A friend just looked at me and asked me to dance. I smile and get up. One dance. I let the rhythm play with my synesthesia and I close my eyes. I love the effect music has on my mind and body. I mean, how lucky am I to actually feel the music on my skin? It’s hugging me. But I sometimes need a real hug. Affection. Am I .. depressed? What’s this strange feeling that I have? Oh. Memories rush to the front of my train of thought. They take the lead and I have an answer. It’s disappointment. It’s like faith is getting away through the cracks that people left behind. I’m just a cracked shell.

7 years later I look back to those days. The days when I was 26 and disappointed in the people I welcomed into my life. As time went by, I smartened up. I learned that you don’t need validation from anyone but yourself. You are the only one who can evaluate you cause you can see the inside too. I learned that people who want to be your friends, they will fight for you and they won’t let you run. I learned … it’s so easy to let go of the people who are bad for you. I learned that love is a real thing. And it can save you and give you wings and make you grow in a beautiful way. I learned again how beautiful people really are. I noticed how lies and deceit are just walls they build around them outta fear. People are so scared. They are scared to look inside other human beings because they might see themselves. And they know how fucked up they actually are. And finally, my toughest lesson was to learn to lower my crazy high expectations. Nothing ruins a life more than high hopes.

Just close your eyes. And connect with me, and him, and her, and other people like us. We are a cloud of people. You’re never alone in your struggle. We are here too. Close eyes and let’s hold hands till it gets better. One breath at the time. One step at the time. 

mistakes and hopes

“I am a firm believer in trusting your gut and in fate. Every single time I felt like doing something, I did. And every time I felt like something was wrong, it was. Every single time. I leaned on my gut over and over again, and it brought me nothing but happy endings, except for once. One time I let my judgement decide instead of my gut, and the regret brings me to my knees day after day.

My only advice is: when you feel that you met the love of your life, stop running. Go towards them. And forget everything you did and felt before. If they run away from you, cause people have been hurt and they tend to do that, don’t let them. If your gut tells you they’re the love of your life, don’t let them run. Start by trying to ground them, but if that doesn’t work, run alongside them. Just run till you catch them, grab their hand and hold on to dear life. If you are the runner, the moment your gut tells you that the person who’s chasing you is the love of your life ( and I do mean the gut, not your brain ), stop. Stop running. Take a deep relaxing breath and hug them. They need that. After all the running they’ve been doing. I regret that I started running and I didn’t look back till it was too late. Till I realized I outran you and at a crossroad you took a different road. Why in the hell am I a runner?!”

I found the previous words written on a piece of paper in a notebook I use to write in. And it shook my world a bit. I woke up this morning kind of early, cause my baby will apparently be a soccer player. He loves to kick me early in the morning till I wake up and take shower for him to relax. I think he loves the sound of running water just like his momma does. I woke up and my husband’s hand was resting on my stomach. He does that since he found out we’re pregnant. He’s sleeping, and I can’t see those beautiful blueish green eyes that he has. His hair is all over the place. If he could just listen and cut it. God. He drives me crazy.  He fell asleep late again cause he likes to sing to the baby at night. He thinks he’ll be relaxed enough not to wake me too early. Yeah right. My baby is just as stubborn as the both of us. After I took the shower and ate, I felt nostalgic out of the blue and I grabbed my old notebook and I found the piece of paper. And I’m glad I did. I needed something to remind me all the pain that I felt. And how it knelt me for so long. And how I got up, and I didn’t lose faith. And one day, almost 2 years ago, he came back to me. It was the best day of my life. And I remember all that and I suddenly feel the need to tell him just how much I appreciate him. I don’t usually write when I’m happy, so I didn’t write in a long while. But I grab a piece of paper and a pen and start writing.

“You are the best man I ever met. You’re strong and smart and driven. You’re wonderful and handsome. Your eyes make me forget how to breathe when they are focused on me. Your smile and your voice make me feel all sort of emotions. From want to love. From physical to emotional to mental. The connection between us is one that movies should be made about. You are great and awesome and all the superlatives at once. You’re the best dad, and your son is not even born yet. You are the ultimate dream come true. And besides all that, you make me feel like I’m the most amazing woman in the world. And for your sake, I might just be. There are not enough words to describe this love and adoration that I feel inside me. It makes me glow. You are making me glow. You are the best!”

loss

At the end of the day, you come home, change into your comfy clothes, grab some ice cream, or a glass of wine, or a beer, you lay on the couch and draw a line. What did I gain today? Have I been better than yesterday? Have I snapped at somebody? Have I been worse than yesterday? But what keeps you deep in thought is the question: what did I lose today? Loss is a hard word. You know what they say? That sorry seems to be the hardest word? Well, it’s not. Loss is. At the end of that day, when you draw the line you start counting your losses. And they are a few. There are those minutes you spent getting dressed, or standing in bed trying to wake up. You could have done that faster. There are thoughts you lost by getting distracted by random stupid stuff like a news on TV or an email that you won’t read anyway. You lose minutes here and minutes there, trying to make your life better but you end up just wasting it some more. Oh god. Let’s cut the crap. You and I both know what are the worst losses: people.

I must confess that I don’t actually know how to deal with loss. I’ve always been honest to myself regarding this matter. All I know is that there are two ways of losing people.

1.       When you don’t have a saying in that. I was in the 9^th grade when me and my best friend grew apart. We went to different high schools and we just stopped talking. It wasn’t exactly my decision or hers, it just happened. I guess time is a weird thing. It keeps people away when it’s needed. I was in the 12^th grade when my grandma died. The woman who raised me till I was 7 died. I couldn’t even go to her funeral …

2.       When you have a saying in that. I was 23 when I decided to end things with my longtime boyfriend. I looked inside me and I didn’t see happiness. I gave him 3 years of my life and I wasn’t happy. It was a year later when I decided I can’t fall in love with the boyfriend I had at the time. It hurts me till this day that I couldn’t. And finally … it was 2 days ago when I said to the love of my life that he can be happy. Without me.

You’d probably be surprised but it hurts way more when you have to choose if you want to keep someone in your life or not. Like the best friend who betrayed you.  What do you do? Are you gonna keep everything as it is even though you have a tear in your soul? Like the love of your life who fell in love with someone else. Are you gonna be his best friend even though it’s like a divine force is ripping your heart out of your chest? Like that friend who always makes fun of you and you don’t know if he cares about you or not. Are you gonna keep force him to stay in touch with you?

Or maybe I do know how to deal with loss. After my grandma died, I discovered that she’s always there, in my heart and brain. I could hear her voice. So I did just whatever other crazy person like me would do. I started talking to her. Years later, when my heart broke again, only worse this time, I ended up doing the same thing. Talking to you. Frequently. I know you won’t hear me till I’ll decide I can move on, but I’m actively talking to you. I’m telling you how sad and mad I am. How happy we could’ve been. How I trust that time will set things straight. How I believe that my grandma is my angel and she knows what’s best for me. But a week later, I’m the exactly same place. It’s fucking day 2 again.

“ I read somewhere that timing is everything … or … was that location?”

I love you!

In the face of the most magical feeling in the world, people react differently. Some are brave. They know themselves enough to admit it the minute that it happens. Some freak out. They feel it in their hearts but the brain can’t process the new feeling. It rejects it. It starts to feel fear instead and it tends to run. Some need just time to cope. Some just jump. Without even thinking twice about it. Some are stupid. Some are smart. Some are brave. Some are afraid. But that’s not what I’m talking about now. It doesn’t matter that. I read the other day that there are a few ways to say I love you without actually saying it. And it got me thinking. There are thousands of ways of saying I love you.

Did you eat? Did you drink enough water? You should listen to this song. Wanna go to a movie? I made reservations for dinner tonight. Are you alright? How was your date? Did you take your meds? Do you need help? Want me to tell you a story? Hold my hand till I fall asleep please? That dress makes you even more beautiful, if that’s even possible. You should shave. Drive safely. Talk to me till it gets better. What can I do to take your mind of it? Your singing is amazing. You playing guitar reminded me of Spain. I can paint these walls for you. Wait for me at the train station? Close  your eyes. Breathe.

Love is in the smallest of things. I saw a great movie a few days ago in which a girl played love. And she said I’m in everyone and everything. I’m in your daughter’s eyes and I am in your grief. I am in the bad and in the good. The world cannot exist without me. And it’s so true. The core of the world is love. Just open your eyes and your ears. Haha. Just pay attention to the little sparks. The inside jokes.

I’ll come to the doctor’s with you. I’ll hug you till all your pieces will fall into place. I will wait for you. I believe in you. You look tired. You are ugly. You’re a cow. Let me help you. I’ll drive you there. You brought me flowers! I knew you love chocolate. I made the bed. I washed the dishes. You inspired me to write. You just made me smile. You should see this movie. Your eyes are pretty. Bitchyness looks great on you. Sarcasm is my second language too. Just stop and look at the stars. I can teach you that. I can explain you that. How are you feeling today? Did I make it better? I am here. I won’t go. Sleep now. You’re such a baby! Those are some perfect teeth. You’re so far away from subtle. You’re my soulmate. I woke up when you fell asleep. I felt you needed to hear this. I felt something’s wrong. Still in pain?

My heart felt something that my brain refused to acknowledge. And I realized too late that I was saying I love you all along. My favorite way of saying it without actually saying it is: when are you gonna cut your hair?!

day 3

No one warned me. That I’ll go shop with my mom in a crowded supermarket and in the middle of the dairy isle I’ll have a breakdown. I have actually felt how my knees went weak and my chest constricted. My mom was taking her sweet time to choose between two different brands of sour cream and I looked at a bottle of milk wondering how breathing works. Like what’s the actual process? Cause I know very well that there’s enough oxygen around me. And that my lungs work. But somehow I couldn’t find … air. I couldn’t ... breathe. But my mom called my name and my lungs filled up. Pain always takes you by surprise.

No one warned me. That I’ll leave the house with a smile on my face (cause it snowed again last night) and after I’ll take 3 steps my body will refuse to cooperate. Like I stop mid stride and I can’t remember the simple action of walking. I look down at my legs and everything seems alright. But my brain … my brain doesn’t want me to walk. My brain wants to run and fly miles and miles away. Thousands of miles, to be more exact. Please brain. Let me just walk. I need to walk. I need to breathe. I need to live. Again.

No one warned me. That I’ll wake up crying. Again and again. That I’ll dream the same conversation over and over again. That the outcome that I dream it’ll get worse and worse. That I’ll be afraid. So afraid that my best friend forgot everything about me. Do you remember my name? Do you remember the stuff we used to talk about? Well.. we talked about everything. Let me narrow it down for you. Do you remember how I told you like 10 times that I’ll kill both of us when you let me drove your car? Do you remember the calls? The late nights? And boom! I wake up crying again thinking that karma is a bitch. And that someone up there hates me. Or loves me? I had the chance to meet and love you.

No one warned me. Or did they? My memory is not very good, especially with the things that I choose to forget. People have warned me. But I thought I know better. I know what love is. But I didn’t. I know what heartbreak is. But I didn’t. And when think you know better, life fucks you up. No. You don’t know better. You’ll suffer through this to learn that you’ll never know better than life.

It’s just day 3. The third fucking day without you. 80 hours without you. And I still can’t figure out how to breathe. 

who am I?

I got this strange idea when I got out of the shower a few days back. I was over analyzing something, like I usually am, and I stopped for a second. It took me a second to come to the conclusion that I don’t know who I am. And then lots and lots of thoughts rushed to be acknowledged.

I am a daughter and a granddaughter at the same time. I can see my grandma’s eyes when I look into the mirror and my mom’s freckles. I can see my dad’s dimple and I can distinguish my other grandma’s empathy. I am a sister. A shitty one at times, and the best one oh so rarely. I am sometimes a cousin or an aunt or a niece, but I don’t really get along with my extended family. I am a friend. A very good one for some and an average one for others. I am a best friend and I am an acquaintance. I am a teacher for that neighbor who couldn’t learn math. I am a therapist for a lot of people. I am an engineer.  A good one, but one who doesn’t want to pursue this field. I am a fast learner and a fast talker. I am quite often hard to follow. My ideas are rushing through my mouth to get out and make themselves noticed. I am a thinker. Correction. We all know, I am an over thinker. I am motherly with my friends and I am empathetic. I am a worrier who can understand the biggest asshole there is.

I am happy. I am mad. I am sad. I am angry. I am ecstatic. I am melancholic. I am moody. And everything at once. I am hungry. I am thirsty. I am satisfied. I am picky. I am unfulfilled. I am peaceful. I am an introvert. I am talkative. I am not good at socializing. I am friendly. I am evil. I am mean. I am helpful. I am a girlfriend. And I am a one night stand. I am that girl in the club who will go home with you. I am that girl in the bar whom you cannot pick up. I am flirty. I am intelligent. I am scared. I am complex. I am difficult. But I am a dreamy wife. For that person who’ll be able to see me as a whole with my flaws and my qualities. I am fucking great. And I am the absolute worst.

I am giving. I am driven. I am dreamy. I am an over achiever. I am my own worst enemy and critique. I am my own therapist. I am a singer. I am a writer. I am an artist. But I cannot draw even if my life would depend on it. I am the sum of my mistakes, my wrongs, my failures. I am the sum of my awards, my praises, my gains. I am the sum of every single thought that I had and I will have. I am soulful. I am decent. I am educated. I am strong. I’ll never back away from pain. I am heartless. I am a laughter and a tear, all in one. I am a girl, a woman and a lady. I don’t have any vices, but I’m vicious. I am your worst nightmare. I am your strongest desire. I am complex. I am deep. You could fall, and never go back. You could look, but couldn’t see me. I am transparent. I am honest. I am straightforward. I am shy. I am a drop of water. I am a freaking ocean.

I am an idea. I am my hopes and dreams and fears. I am a soul full of ideas. I am my future, my past, but most of all, my present. Who the fuck am i?