#91 || Au Revoir, Pinot Noir

 
 And To Those I Love, Thanks For Sticking Around ;; 

 

It is surreal to think of how much metamorphosis has taken place in the last year or so [exclusive of the obvious]. One year later my heart feels more calloused than it ever has, transfigured by the severity and disregard of the actions and events that transpired, I didn’t know that places so dark and desperate even existed, ready to welcome lost souls into the alcoves of hopelessness. There lies the kind of loneliness that chills your bones, it’s the solitude that keeps your heart beating slow and steady in the moonlight but fast and rapid during the moments you hear the echoes of the declarations of love and longing that were all just lies and falsehoods in the end. At the worst of times I can’t imagine ever giving anybody the key to my heart ever again, but at the best of times there are moments where you are able to forget how they made you feel. Eventually you start believing that you are the way people treat you, that you are ordinary and forgettable no matter how strong and tenacious you are. It’s not about entitlement but it’s about believing at the bottom of your heart that you’re more deserving of how you feel right now.

I miss you every day but if you only knew how much it hurts and how I don't think I have felt as happy as one year ago today when you were in the passenger seat next to me, assuring me this wouldn't be the last time I saw you ["it's not goodbye, it's i'll see you soon"]. I realise now that even in those moments of complete and utter gratitude that I was able to feel loved and important and alive, that it may have been possible to feel even more grateful and savour the present until there was absolutely no more ecstasy left in that very second. To lose it all at once, it’s such an incredible sensation that I think is all too common in this era where everything and everyone is dispensable.

At the end of this chapter, I’m not leaving you behind in the memories of what happened but out of the one last shred of respect I have for myself, I think I need to relinquish the sympathy and fret of how I never want anybody to feel as sad as I have and as I do, and remember that this separation was your choice. I don’t believe that physical absence should engender amnesia because I treasure each and every single soul I have ever met, I cherish your existence and the beating of your heart and the love you bring to this world. At this moment, I know there is love and hope in the sunsets and sunrises, from my mother and my father and my sisters, from my beloved friends across the ocean and the songs and films that articulate what we’re all too ashamed to share. There is no animosity, only amity that for now will rest in the dormant chambers of my head and my heart. I hope one day that I will understand why it had to hurt so much and I hope that I will never make anybody feel this way.

 

 [ au revoir (for now), A xo ]

#90 || “And when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?”

 

Perhaps it was from May until maybe even the other day, I woke up in this nightmarish haze where it didn't seem real that everything had disappeared. People fear the prospect of abandonment and rejection but to experience it in the abundance that I did last year -- that unexpected and maybe self-inflicted loss was unlike anything I could have ever imagined was possible. Then the sensation suddenly became an addiction ;; I found myself reaching out to those who I knew didn't want to remember I existed, to hurt my heart with the feeling of being forgotten, over and over again. Like some kind of quasi-defense mechanism, it became easier to anticipate heartache and prompt it, than to even hope for the best.

I'm learning every day that the unconditional love that exists in songs and films and storybooks is more rare than I ever thought, it may even be endangered. We live in a world that is constantly manufacturing copies and concepts that make individuals less unique and less accommodating to uniqueness and singularity unless it acts in their favour. We're all so desperate to make an impression and to be loved that anything is better than something special, and that doesn't even count the irrational infatuation that we can't let go of despite all logic and common sense.

There is a fine balance that can exist but it doesn't, not right now. Loyalty and security and love mean next to nothing if there isn't anything to gain from it. We all feel so personally attacked by something so boundless and immeasurable and unforgiving and undiscriminating. Maybe it's ego or maybe we're frightened. In this moment, all I know is that it's okay to change your mind and your opinion and everything you are if you believe your actions are right and kind and won't break anybody's heart without reason.

 

That's all. Love (if it even exists anymore), A. xo

 

#89 || THE LOVERS, THE DREAMERS & ME

ATTN: ALL OF THOSE I'VE LOVED BEFORE

 

Do you remember the days when the love was so bountiful it could substitute sleep? Do you remember when the waking moments were the real dreams? I suppose just like any other storybook, when the pages start to become blank and you may or may not have had closure or the happy-ending that you wanted, maybe you'll miss the heroine for a minute or two but life doesn't wait for the perpetually confused.

Perhaps it contradicts logic to miss somebody who doesn't exist, who won't be there and who doesn't care. It wasn't self-respect, reassurance or pride that [will] helped me let you go, but copious amounts of time and continual signs from you indicating my insignificant existence in your world. Lately, I focus too much on the time until or the time since, that I can't seem to find the time now. I feel like I'm stuck in-between where I want to be and where I could be and maybe even where I should be. Sometimes my dreams are the wildest. I forget that dreams are impossible and they don't come true. Fairytales don't exist, you said. But who knows, you lied about everything else. It's okay though, because I can't make somebody love me and everybody loves so differently but it's just when I see the love exchanged between others, so organically and infinite, that's the love I want to want to give [... and receive]. I want it all most of the time not just sometimes and even if it had to be sometimes, then it needs to be fucking golden.

One year and a month ago I remember that despite losing just about everything, I felt so loved. Now one year and a month later, I have replaced everything I lost and more but in the process, I lost the love. The loneliness now seems beyond repair, I couldn't possibly accept love even if you begged and professed it from the rooftop because I'm that ugly on the inside. Just ask anybody who ever stopped wanting to be my friend. What do you do when you yourself are the toxic one? [ Tip: Hide away from the world and don't let anybody see what you're really like. ]

KISSES, 

A XO

 

P.S. Fuck you all anyway.