it's okay to not be okay

even though i'm an avid reader of self-help websites like thought catalog and elite daily, i usually read it for sole entertainment purposes. who are we kidding? contributors, even though they may have their lives sorted out, would not understand what you are going through. they may come very very damn close, but you know you cannot whiz through life with one formula that ensures you a pleasant life. who wants that anyways? (i'd be lying if i say i do, but hear me out)

so today, when i was doing my daily wander on the marvellous land of facebook, i came across this post, where the contributor explores the common topic of having quality friends, instead of quantity. a motion i agree with wholeheartedly.

having lived an adventurous and exciting 19 years on this earth, i'd say i've endured my fair share of heartaches when it comes to friendship. i'll admit it. i care too much, and sometimes it puts strain on others, driving people apart, reopening gaping wounds as you're left out until you're bled dry. yet when it comes to friendship, i never seem to learn my lesson. i meet that one 'right' person and all i have to do is wait for history to take its course again. 

on my defence, the recipient of my love and care should understand how much the relationship meant to me; and that they should be glad that i care so much. i shut people out sometimes, and you can't blame me. all i ever wanted was to treat others the way i want to be treated. is it too much to ask for?

to answer that question in short: yes.

you can't expect others to understand fully what you think, and here i am, expecting more when the other side does not see eye-to-eye. does it hurt? yes, it motherfucking does, and it gets worse each time i promise you. truth is, nobody likes a desperate idiot and all i have been doing is play the role of the desperate idiot who cares too much.

lesson of this whole blogpost: learn to love yourself a little more before putting others in front of you. i guess arguably, the only reason why i'm hurting so much is because i love myself too much and i expect others to do the same. don't get me wrong, please do continue to love yourself. don't ever fucking stop because you are all you have at the end of the day. yet instead of complaining on those who would not return your love and affection (or even your phone calls and your messages), spend your time and love on someone who would truly appreciate it. there's only so much time and so many heartbreaks you can take, so why not use them wisely and to your own advantage?

uncertain emotions force an uncertain smile

as a teenager, experiencing love (or the perfected image of falling head over heels for someone your age whom you really don't know very well) is inevitable. every late night message. each little word he muttered under his breath. every lingering glance. all of these constitutes such a picture, an unobtainable one.

you know you're not going to be the one he ends up with. not the one who will hide under his umbrella on a rainy summer's afternoon, nor the one he lends his coat to on a cold, winter's night. yet you cannot help but dream. the prospect of him, i'd say, is pretty damn appealing.

you'll think you're over him, but each time when you see him with another girl in his arm, it bites back just as hard as the last time. the smiles on their faces, they seem genuine. maybe he is happy this time around. in some parallel universe, you think, maybe we'd be together.

he's the boy with the perfect teeth. the one with the low, sultry voice. the one who once tried to teach you how to shuffle in a club on the dance floor. the one who then kissed you on the dance floor. the one who walked you to a taxi stand to make sure you'll reach home safely.

the one who seemed perfect. the one who was never yours.