Love, Is It To Be Feared?

And I beg to disagree when you said that love shouldn’t be feared because it is.

Love makes you feel something that you haven’t even felt before. It makes you think if feeling it was normal. It makes you think that you are acting crazy. It makes you do stupid stuff. It makes you do crazy things. Things you aren’t even aware of that you would do just to see that person smile.

Now tell me, is love something to be feared?

In response to: Disagree

Can we just stop pretending for a second?

It’s okay to cry, it doesn’t mean you’re weak.
It’s okay to bring down your walls, not everyone’s gonna hurt you.
It’s okay to stop the “I don’t care in the world” act, it doesn’t mean you’re vulnerable, it means you’re human.
It’s okay to give yourself a break, you deserve it, after a long time of being stressed.
It’s okay to tell him you love him, it’s better than leaving it unsaid.

In response to :Pretend

Maybe I’m not supposed to feel butterflies. Maybe it’s supposed to make me feel something else. Maybe I’m supposed to feel safe. Maybe I’m supposed to feel loved like the way I’ve loved others. But how could I feel it, when my heart’s gone cold?

My Obsession

I am obsessed in being whole for I am nothing more than shards of broken pieces, trying to fit together, trying to make sense, trying to put back what was broken.

But I guess, I can’t be whole again. Not when I’m thinking like this. Not with this heavy feeling in my chest that bothers me. Not when I’m letting my sadness define me.

Yes, I am sad, perhaps even clinically depressed. I find socializing a little bit tiring and draining. I am stressed with academics and there isn’t someone that I can talk to. I try to act that everything’s fine but I’m really not. I was so close to breaking down the other day. This is why I need to learn to love myself and for that I am obsessed in feeling whole, in loving myself, and finding happiness.

In response to:Obsessed

Tourist In A Familiar Land

The way your eyes meet mine,
Somehow lost its depth,
The way your hands lingered on my skin,
Like I’m something you’re afraid to touch,
The way you say my name,
Seems like it’s leaving a bitter taste.

Is this what it feels like?
To be a tourist in a familiar land?

My response to: Tourist

You came along and taught me that I could be somebody and not just a nobody. You taught me that there’s more to life than disappointments, that there are chances, and once in a lifetime opportunities that I should take. You make me feel things that no other human being can—you made me feel loved and I have loved you in return.

But season changes and time flies, as soon as you got what you want from me, you treated me like a piece of garbage. You made me feel like I was at the end of your priority list— that I don’t deserve your time. That I was an option; not just an ordinary option, but an option you aren’t even willing to take.

You wouldn’t even look at me as guilt slowly kills you on the inside. But that didn’t stop you. And just like that, as fast as you came into my life, that’s how fast you left me for another.