Tag Archives: lost


Someone asked me if I am over you, I just smiled. I have always ached every time I realize it’s you, and it will always be you. The idea of me loving someone else is a blur right now.

As much as I wanted to say, “I am over him, I don’t care anymore,” and mean it, I can’t, because I care. Even if you happen to stumble on my way ten or fifteen years from now, I still and always care.

A lot of people misunderstand this concept of moving on and say you won’t care about the past if you’re truly over it. For me, it doesn’t work that way.

Moving on for me is merely accepting what happened, with no regret for what will never be. And for a person who loves too much, I can truthfully say that one can never really get over someone who once meant the world to them. We can just get used to the pain and feeling of missing someone until we make ourselves comfortable in it, and I believe that a tiny spark of hope can always reborn what we thought is already dead– love.

It’s been two years since everything ended but I can still remember the vast happiness I had when I was with you, and I just want to say that I miss you.

I miss those moments when we glance at each other and smile because we both know words are not enough to explain what we feel. Even if every day I am dying to feel these all again, all I could do is sit here, try to be happy for you, and pour out all my feelings by writing about you.

Love, if ever the time comes when you remember me and come back, just know that I am always here, waiting.

However, love, if the time comes when you come back and see me loving someone else, just know that it took me too much courage to open my heart to another guy again after what I’ve been through for you, for us. If you happen to realize that he could have been you, just keep in mind that my heart, no matter how much it endures every pain for you, it gives up.

I know I’ll be in love again. But for now, I’ll continue holding on to what you said, “If we are meant to be, love will lead us back.”

You see, I don’t believe in destiny and such things as “meant-to-bes” for I know that only our own choices influence what happens in our life. But you, you made me believe in dreams and fantasies.
But I guess it’s time to wake up.

I’ll smile for you again because I know that one day, I’ll be seeing you.
Until then, I will be missing you.

I am not asking for you to come back. I see you are very happy now and it somehow eases the feeling of longing for your presence, for your happiness is my delight, even if I am not a part of it.

Written by Tin Sarmienta via Berlin ArtParasites



Someone said to someone:

“You’re lucky you’re ugly, at least you know people aren’t around just to fuck you.”

And it brought back memories…

…of the time someone has rowed a boat for four hours because I got it in my head to spend a night in an abandoned lighthouse on a sandbar somewhere. I said:

“I envy her -indicating another couple in a boat a few meters ahead of us- he is rowing for her.”

My companion stated the obvious. So, I asked him:

” Would you still do it if I were she/her?” 

The relationship was practically over before we even hit the shore.


Laughter It’s Not

You think you miss someone. But it isn’t like that. You miss the moments you shared together. You miss the things they made you feel. You miss the persona you concocted in your head to fit the missing pieces you were too blind to discover for yourself. Until little by little, that persona faded away. You started to uncover the real missing pieces of their complex and erratic personality. Sometimes you’d become amazed at the qualities you hadn’t seen. You’d started appreciating them more and more, growing even more fond of them. Then the days had come when you’d scratched the surface deep enough to see their more obscure vices, and you started to question some things. Regardless of their importance, you pushed these away thinking that you could work through them, or you just ignored them altogether. Until the false image you’d created erodes completely and reveals a stranger. And only when this bubble burst is when you realize that you’d made a grave mistake to have given so much of yourself to them.

~ Berlin ArtParasites



“I’ve still got a place for you in my heart, just not my life.” 

As much as you mean to me, the time has come for me to finally remove myself as one of your options.

The truth that I have come to believe is that any man who really wanted to be with me, wouldn’t be conflicted about it—he’d be all in.

Simply for the reason that I’m a woman worth being all in for.

But you never could quite decide what I was to you—and while I think you did know more than you pretended to—it doesn’t  matter so much what we think or feel, it matters what we do.

And you never did a damn thing when it came to me.

The reality is—indecision can be a decision unto itself.

I used to become frustrated with you because I could tell there were no easy answers and that there was always more to our story-line than you ever let on.

I spent time wondering about everything that lay unsaid between us—but I don’t anymore.

Because I said all that I needed to, and whether you did or not isn’t something I need to spend time losing sleep over.

And the closure I sought from you—that never came—no longer haunts me, because I’ve accepted that loose ends are just part of who we are.

I’ve learned that sometimes there are no endings—and that’s okay because I know now that I can still find a new beginning.

I won’t sit here and disgrace our history or promise that my lips will never again touch yours because I will never assume that I know more than whatever divine force governs this world.

But the only thing I do know is that at this moment in time, you don’t want to be here in this place by my side with your arm around me—and so, I’ve decided to pursue things with someone who does.

You wanted me to move forward and move on, so I am—right into the arms of a man who doesn’t make me second-guess his interest and who doesn’t shut down when I ask difficult questions.

The thing is, I don’t really even know what we were because you could never find the words yourself.

And although you never asked me to be yours—you also never really closed the door on us completely.

But this time—as much as I care for and respect you—I cannot remain in this place any longer.

I can’t keep asking if you’re ready, to be honest and to address things like adults, only to be shut down once again.

My heart is tired—and a woman can only be pushed away so many times before she actually makes the choice to walk away.

The thing that hurt me the most was how you made it seem as if I coerced you against your will—acting as a siren, beckoning you to demise along my curvy coasts.

I was never your downfall, but perhaps I was your kryptonite because even Superman has a weakness.

I don’t know if you have ever admitted the truth to yourself or if lies still taste that much sweeter.

Because you are the artist in this masterpiece, and therefore you only see what you want to—or what you are comfortable with.

Regardless of our tangled loose ends—and no matter how many tears I may still shed over you—I can’t be an option for you when you decide you want to find yourself again.

I don’t expect you to care because you’ve made it clear that you already have moved on.

Yet I still have to wonder that if through all your bolstered convictions, you were trying to convince me or yourself more.

Although I know that I can no longer be one of your options, I don’t actually know how to do that—because somehow you’ve become a part of my heart without me even wanting you there, and so now it makes it difficult to discover how to exactly remove you.

All I know is that no one has ever brought me to my knees, simply by looking into my eyes, like you have.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring—all I know is that you can’t (or don’t) want to be here, and there is another man who does.

A man who I still can’t picture touching my body, simply because I haven’t yet been able to erase your name from my skin.

One of the saddest parts of all of this is that I know I had the same effect on you—it just wasn’t convenient or “supposed” to happen.

But our eyes don’t lie, even when our hearts try to.

And so, with every step I take away from you, I sometimes take two back.

You are the most delicious struggle to move on from, but I am trying.

So I travel a little bit further every day, until maybe someday I’ll get far enough away that I can convince myself neither of us felt anything.

And it won’t matter if it’s the truth or not because I know that with time we can convince ourselves of almost anything.

However, before I leave this place for good, you should know that I meant every word I’ve ever said to you.

Especially when I told you that I love you.

Because I know that no matter what has transpired, I will never regret telling you those beautifully simple words.

With each step I take, I send you my sweet succulent love, not knowing where my path will lead me.

It’s possible it will lead me into the arms of the man who’s been waiting for me to find him all along—or it might lead me right back to you.

Because the pain and confusion of leaving loose ends mean that you know quite well they’re still there, left untied and waiting, in case this time—you decide you really do want to tie it up, once and for all.

“Some things just need to be let go of. If it’s meant to be you’ll find each other again.” 

Relephant: Via Kate Rose


Truth slap

I can’t wait for the day when life finally makes sense, when we find the silver lining in every tragedy, when we learn the lesson from each mistake and when we understand why our hearts needed to get broken a few times to let love in.

I can’t wait for the day that we understand why we met the right people at the wrong time or the wrong people at the right time and why our lives didn’t align to bring us together.

I wonder if it’s because they’re the wrong ones for us or because we still have a lot of growing up to do and we’re meant to be with someone who understand who we’re becoming not who we were.

I can’t wait for the day that we understand the lesson behind every struggle. Why we struggled to be successful, why we struggled to find love, why we struggled to reach our dreams and why we lost people who meant the world to us. I wonder if we needed these lessons to learn how to appreciate life and feel the pain of others or we just needed to learn that there is no living without suffering.

I can’t wait for the day that we understand why we had to hate ourselves to love ourselves, why we had to destroy ourselves to build ourselves up again and why we had to start over just before we got to the finish line. I wonder who saved us or who inspired us to save ourselves.

I wonder if we are meant to be reborn a few times so we can learn how to truly live. I want to know what triggered us to change and how we can no longer recognize who we used to be.

I can’t wait for the day that we understand why we keep falling for the wrong ones over and over again, why we can’t forget those who hurt us and why we sometimes can still forgive them and take them back. I want to understand how our hearts operate, how they function, how they move us to do things we would never do and lead us to places that we know we shouldn’t go to.

I’m curious to know why we listen to it, why we follow it blindly like it never got us lost before, why we trust it even though it left us broken and why do we always go back to it for questions when it keeps giving us the wrong answers. I wonder if there will come a day when we stop listening to it and if we’ll ever be truly alive without it.

They say everything happens for a reason and I truly believe that, but I also want to know what this reason is and why it chose us. Why some reasons keep recurring and why some reasons leave us even more perplexed. I want to understand why we go through certain things, what’s the message behind it and what if we never respond to this message, what if we just ignore it and keep living, what will happen then? Will our lives get lost in translation?

I can’t wait for the day that life makes sense – some days I understand why certain things happened and others I’m not so sure, but all I know is that somehow we’ll connect the dots and someday we’ll complete the puzzle, until then, we have to learn how to live our lives without trying to understand it and we have to learn how to be comfortable with the irony and uncertainty of life; otherwise we’ll lose our common sense trying to make sense of the life we’re living.

~ via facebook


Where Is Home?

I’m lost.

I don’t know where I am but one thing is for sure, I don’t belong here. Nor I belong to other places I’ve been. I thought in the beginning that home is where I was, with my family but I was wrong. I didn’t belong there either. That’s why probably I always sneaked out the window when I supposed to be sleeping and play on my own instead of playing with my siblings.  I like to be alone, even then.

Growing up I didn’t (and still don’t) understand these people. I feel that I have nothing in common with them. I have different moral and values. I don’t lie and cheat and I don’t believe in stealing. But I did what I was told to do, always. I even sold my soul to rescue them but it didn’t help. I think they are lost too.

We had too many houses. None of those we owned. We stayed only for awhile. We were gone before I could ever feel at home in any of those abodes. The same with places. We were always moving.

The longest I stayed in one place is with someone my family thought was/is the best for me, for them. I spent (wasted) twenty years of my life (youth) there. But it wasn’t home. During that time I felt I was on transit, that I was on my way to somewhere, that one day I was going to wake up and will find out that my life then was nothing but a long, long nightmare. It didn’t happen of course. I had to force myself to realize that nothing will change unless I take the crucial step. Eventually I did.

But not before I did all those things looking for home, for my rainbow connection. I thought I will find it during one of those adventures though I didn’t know that I was looking for it subconsciously, I thought I was having fun. Those choices have consequences, but I will gladly do it again. To have some respite is better than suffering continuously. I’m only human.

After I escaped I have chosen to find home in the most likely place, somewhere new, fresh, unspoiled, almost a fairy-tale. The perfect beginning of a new story. I thought: here I can start again.

But it is like incorporating Sinbad in a Cinderella story. You cannot mix water with oil. Feeling pain is better than feeling nothing. You might as well be dead. Is life really like this? Because everyday I wake up, the first thought that comes in my head is: this is it? Is that normal? I didn’t realize that home means boring. Too peaceful, too calm. 

Is there nothing in between two extremes? Why it have to be one thing or the other? Where is the gray area in this? Do I have to draw (color) it myself? Maybe I’m a gypsy, a nomad… Perhaps I am not really cut out for home, wherever that is…




“He shall be kept alive to always remind me of how close I came to danger.”

 (Queen Elizabeth)

You contacted me yesterday. I was surprised. After almost eight years. There are millions of things that happened. You told me.

You fell in love. Head over heels you said. Your femme fatale, that’s how you described her. You sent me the picture of the two of you together. I saw a couple of things there. First: she doesn’t look like it. But who am I to say? Second: You’ve changed! Hardly recognizable. Only the blond hair and the blue of your eyes remind me of the person I used to know.

Lost weight again, I noticed; which seems a pattern every time you are embarking on a new relationship. Not that you need to shade some extra pounds. You look okay.  Always been. In fact, too good. A right combination of alpha traits and vulnerability with baby blue eyes and a very sharp and creative mind to match, qualities that supposed to attract me on papers; only I don’t like blue, and on papers, everything looks good.

You see, I may be weird on papers and sometimes in reality too; but my oddness does not stretch to handcuffs or ropes, a paddle or a whip, and probably leather outfits and masks. No, thank you. My idea of fun does not include being tied up (even with a velvet rope) or torture (even with feathers) or humiliated (for a kick) or be dominant (for the sake of God knows what) it’s simply not my thing.

What a pity. Aside from that, I could see us together; and apparently you too because you say you are willing to throw away all your gadgets for me. In theory_ possible, but in practice_ unbelievable. It is difficult to hide one’s true nature. It will come to the surface sooner or later.

After the initial euphoric state of being in love is over, and the novelty had worn out; I wonder if you would not be tempted to go back to your old habits. That risk I cannot take.

You went on telling how it had been for you.  How you chose to go headlong into disaster. You said you were aware of how a fool you are right from the beginning. I didn’t expect that. Shocked and disbelief was written all over my face. If you could only see me.

I guess I was wrong about you. I told you that too. I said I had another idea of the person. Now, that is gone also.

You were always drawn to difficult women I said.

“Remember, I was drawn to you too.”  That was your answer.

Then you go on telling me how I hurt you, hurt D. and myself as well. I am not aware I was hurt and when did it happen.

When you were on your way to get me to go to the film festival and D called you.

The two of you had an argument over the phone; you told him he’s isolating me. That’s when it happened you said.

I remember that.

We had to pull over to the side of the road because he was beside himself. That’s why I decided to stay.

It hurts being stood up, you insisted.

That’s maybe true, but not enough to get a tattoo. The situation didn’t allow you to, you said. That’s BS! We both know it.

I sent you my recent photos. You asked for it. Thinking I’m maybe pregnant? It’s impossible. Didn’t I tell you? I can’t remember.

I threw in a couple of shots of me and D. Why? No idea.

We look so in love. That was the comment. I told you I could fake. You didn’t buy it.

Your relationship is over. You don’t love her anymore. Another BS! Love is not water that you can wipe off easily when spilled and will be dry in seconds. Now, I am the one who’s not buying it. Either you are fooling me or yourself. It could be both.

Anyway, I’m glad you did. Contacted me I mean. Now I could let go of my ideas of you and the ‘what could have been.’ Now I know I didn’t miss something. Nothing special slipped through my fingers. At least now, I could probably sleep better… now, that it’s over… the fantasy is over.

And the box…  I’ll hang onto it. To remind me of how hard you tried to pave your way into my heart (and into my pants) to keep me sober when I need/want to… run away and try something new. And as Elizabeth had once said: “To always remind me of how close I came to danger.”

ritual burning 2e

Reply To Writing 101: Third Time’s The charm

Here Is Part One And Part Two 



We’ve been asked to write the blurb for the book jacket of the book we would write, if only we had the time and inclination. Here is what first came to mind. Forgive the chaos. I’m tired and feeling lost somehow after walking for more than twelve hours two days in a row. Here it is…

“She’s back!” Michael uttered to himself over and over again in disbelief. Who could have guessed that she would be back? No one! Not even him. Although God knows how much he had hold on to that single thread of hope as if his own life depends on it.  No matter how impossible and elusive it may seem, he kept on hanging, believing with all of his heart that one day this moment will come. And there she was__ in flesh and blood, not part of his dream or imagination. How many times he envisioned this meeting? He lost count already. Now she’s finally here standing before him wearing her familiar smile, the one he had fallen hard for five years ago; and the memories came rushing in. In his mind, it was raining again and he was sitting in the porch of a friend’s house attending his sister’s birthday party when suddenly a Honda Dax surged out of nowhere and stopped in front of him, atop the bike was a girl so sexy and gorgeous his world stopped from turning. And it had been like that for five years. Now she’s back and he can start living again…

How’s that? Good enough?




I make a futile attempt to hold Ems hand but she pulls it away. That little subtle rejection pierces my heart. There was a time that it came naturally between us, holding hands. Whenever we were together, our fingers sought each other and automatically entwined. How long ago it was that things between us happened spontaneously? I can’t remember anymore. I miss those times… those precious moments when we could talk freely without fear of hurting our already fragile emotional state. If only…

I grasp her hand once more, this time I refuse to let go even though she keeps tugging at it, after a while, she stops trying.  How people become so self-absorbed with their own personal grief they utterly forget that there is still a world outside their sorrow? I can hardly believe it was happening to me, to Ems, to us. We supposed to lean on one another in the moment like this, instead we are drifting apart and the gap between us keeps growing each day it becomes so huge I’m beginning to realize that not only the distance is becoming impossible to bridge but it is also threatening to swallow us up. I wish we can go back to the past; everything would be easier then…

Turning the corner of our favorite park where I proposed to her over by the bridge; I notice an old woman sitting on a bench, she’s knitting a small red sweater. All of a sudden I see a small body of a little boy tumbling over by the impact of the car when I hit him,  his broken body lying there on the street wearing his best-loved red sweater, the one his grandma knitted and gave to him for Christmas. My little boy! My precious son is dead and I killed him! For the first time in months, I let go of my emotion and cried…

She didn’t find it a good idea to go for a walk, but he insisted. It’s so typical of him to make up excuses to avoid confrontation. He rather drags her in public to be sure there will never be a fight. He knows she will not dare to make a scene when there are people around. All she wanted is to talk. Really talk, not the beating-around-the-bushes conversation he always seems to prefer. It’s been a year now since the accident, the grieving have to be over, they have to accept their loss and go on with their lives.

There are some facts that they have to face. She knows he blames her for not keeping an eye on their son, for forgetting to close the gate, for talking on the phone for too long not realizing the boy was old enough to be curious and venture outside. On her part, she blames him for the deed itself, taking away her only source of pride and happiness. She had a difficult pregnancy and her son’s birth left her with a torn cervix. Other complications ensured the fact that she will never bear children anymore. That boy was her only chance.

She is willing to talk about it, air their hidden grievances towards each other. Acceptance is the ultimate key in the healing process. They cannot pretend nothing happened and move on. If their marriage is to survive, they need to talk, urgently. Now, seeing him crying his heart out in public is too much for her to bear. She turns around and walks away, leaving him behind.

Gertrude sees them coming from a distance, her first thought was: what a beautiful couple. They remind her of Bill and herself in the beginning of their marriage, before everything turned sour. Now he’s dead and she’s happy, happier than she had ever been in the last years of their relationship.

She notices the man tried to hold the woman’s hand, had witnessed when she tried to pull it away and thought: “Oh, dear…” maybe she had drawn her conclusion too hastily. What it is with young couple nowadays? They divorce and separate in a blink of an eye mostly for petty reasons. They ought to talk to each other more often and learn to really listen. But who is she to talk about that matter, she is no expert. Her own marriage was not one can call picture-perfect, but they stayed together for 35 years; that must account for something.

She directs her eyes on the small red sweater she’s knitting, Wendy would love this one. Red is her favorite color. Being with her grand-daughter is one thing she always looks forward to. That little girl brings joy to her heart and energized her ageing soul; she can’t help but smile every time her memory conjures up her image. Pity, Bill is not here to witness her happiness. Then again, maybe it’s for the better.

They are closer now, the couple. She watches them from under her lids, pretending to be engrossed with her work. She sees two sets of feet stop before her. She hears the man’s outburst of crying. She looks up and catches the woman’s back fleeing, leaving the man crumpled in heap on the wet grass. Slowly, she stretches her old limbs and stands up, putting her knitting back inside her tote bag. She walks to the grieving man on the ground and put her hand on his shoulder saying: “There, there…”

Gertrude stays with the man, holding his rocking, sobbing form against her bosom. After a while, he stops crying and looks at her. She smiles at him and says: “Want to join me on the bench and tell me all about it?”



“Not until we are lost we begin to understand ourselves.”

(Henry David Thoreau)

Lately, I seem finding myself always on crossroads.

No doubt, at some point in my life like everyone else, I have been there at least couple of times. But I must have forgotten it or didn’t think much about the situation. When one is young(er) one doesn’t stop much on one’s track to contemplate about life in general. We just get up and dust ourselves after numerous falls and go on and on. It goes hand and hand with the feeling of being immortal when one thinks that time is on one’s side.

Ironically, we do realize that we are living on borrowed time when it’s almost too late. Only then we experience this kind of haste, wanting to cramp everything we want to do in so little time left. Most of them quite hard if not impossible with our newly acquired advanced state. Not Unlike when packing a suitcase and wanting to get all that extra stuff inside we even sit, stand jump on top of the valise just to be able to close and zip the damn thing.

There were so many things happened in my life. Most of them I am not able to place or digest yet. And there are still some sure changes yet to come which I am trying to be prepared while struggling to work with what is happening now. Lately, I am having difficulty dealing with uncertainty. I know, life is never certain and it never used to bother me before. In fact, I once view it as exciting. Easy to do when one has nothing to lose and everything to gain. But once you reached a certain point in your life when you value everything you work for and know for a fact that starting all over again is quite pointless because some constituents render that choice impossible, then fear sits in.

I’m good in talking to myself. Pep myself into all sorts of positive mind frames just to get by. I know what I can and what I want. Always been. But some choices I have made couple with natural elements of life (I wonder if they call it destiny or fate) put me in a situation I am not supposed to be right now. And that for the first time ever, I have difficulties dealing with.

All of my life I was busy surviving I never stop on my track to attend to my emotional needs. I never question the why; never blame anyone for whatever is happening. Never take time for self-pity or anger. I just go on and on and on to deal with what life decided to throw at me. Perhaps that was my saving grace, because I never been bitter or vindictive. And that is still what I am doing right now, surviving. But lately, I’m beginning to experience some kind of fatigue, both mentally and physically. I begin to question the whys and hows of everything. Suddenly, I don’t want to just go on anymore as before, I want to stop on my tracks and attend to my emotional physical and psychological needs first instead of dealing with practical problems like always.

I want to have (real) possibilities, not always having to choose between two evils, I want the chances I never had, I want better options, I want opportunities to be who and what I want to be in an environment best suited for my current needs. I want to put myself first above anyone and anything for once.

I want to spend whatever precious time I have left to do whatever pleases me and allow myself to think about my situation. I want to face the naked truth. The complete unembellished version I always trying to avoid for the fear of crumbling down. For once, I want to be weak. Admit that I can’t always talk myself into pretending I’m okay. Everything is okay, when they are not.

I want to feel secure with the knowledge that I can let go without causing the ship to sink, resulting in chaos that would resonate and affect my existence for years to come, whatever left of it. At this point in my life, I supposed to be secure, settled and resting, enjoying the fruit of my hard labor; but as it is… it feels (and it is) like starting over again with all the consequences of being a beginner at the starting point of this existence we all called life…



You keep flooding my inbox. It’s been five years. You never forget. You want to still be friends. This puzzled me for we never been something else.

That’s why we have to meet, you said.

Against my better judgment, I agreed.

We’re going to swim. Not far, a block from where I live. I asked D.’s permission. What I was thinking? Did I expect him to say yes? He trusts me he said, but he will never trust you.

It’s always up to me to decide.  I’m allowed to have friends, I am not? You asked.

Anyone but not you D. said.

Why? Marriage is not a prison you insisted. Granted, but it’s getting complicated…

I thought after all these years, you have given up. But you keep sending me messages asking how I am. Most of them I ignored. I don’t want to give you false hope when I have nothing to give. I respect you enough not to do that.

You just want to be friends, nothing more nothing less. You promised.

BS said D. You want more than friendship, always were and always will be. Otherwise, you had forgotten me a long time ago already. It must be the case of: you always covet something you cannot obtain, he added.

He doesn’t have to be jealous. It’s supposed to be the other way around, D. is the one who is living and sleeping with me. You’re dying to trade places, you said.

There is something I must admit though, seeing you yesterday with that woman and staring at your romantic photos together made me think of a lot of things, like: is she willing to share your “hobby”? Is it the real thing this time or another attempt to chase a fantasy? I even sent a message to you (one of my few) expressing my desire for you to find happiness and contentment, wishing you all the best in the world. And I really mean it.

At the same time, looking at your smiling face next to your new found love (?) I cannot help thinking: it could be me. Yes, it could have been, if I am not what I am.  Adventurer daring eccentric fearless wild weirdo but still… not crazy enough to venture that road you wanted to take.

Why I seem cannot fully sever the umbilical cord when it comes to you?

Maybe because we can talk. I mean, really talk, without fear of being misinterpreted. (Perhaps the misinterpretation happened already a long time ago) You never tell me something offensive, always keeping the conversation light and funny.  With you, I could be myself.

Another thing:  you’re the only person I know who really walk the talk. I admire that.

If you are not what you are, I have chosen you over D. you said you know and that makes everything extra difficult. The option will always be open, indefinitely; in case I change my mind. You made sure I understand this. Then you asked if I never wonder sometimes…

That one simple kiss could change everything if I allow… that it’s better to know than spending our lives wondering…

I told you no_ and that’s the truth. Like I said before, I never deliberately stroll into blind alleys.

Honest to the core, you confessed your recent adventure in the funny farm. Three months you stayed there. The death of your mother and the current suicide of your brother must have been too much, even for you. I’m glad you’re out in the real world again.

You could have told me the story when you came to dinner. I preferred it. But you never mentioned. You must have reasons.

Anyway, there is no visible damage I could see.

I don’t know about psychological and emotional aspect though. I will not ask. It’s not my concern.

I still want to be friends.  We have a lot in common.  I admire your courage, your willingness to try; you’re not scared to invest. Others might stay clear off the kitchen after being burned severely, but not you… you stumbled and fall, run into the wall just like the song but after picking yourself up, you go full steam ahead. Good for you.

There is one problem though.

I am not sure if I’m willing to compromise my marriage in exchange… 


Reply To Writing 101: Serially Found

the note

“Bedroom isn’t the right place to explore with him, unless… you’re very, very desperate… I’m leaving today. I can’t take it anymore. Sorry mother.”

I folded the small paper that was stuck under my shoe. Found it accidentally when I crossed my legs to lessen the cramp I was feeling sitting on a train for quite some time.  How long it had been there? Where I had steeped on it? I looked around; everyone was busy with their business. Nobody noticed. I gazed outside the window.

The train stopped. I reached my destination. I left the note folded on the table.

I could have written it. I muttered to myself.

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Reply to Writing 101: Be Brief

Reply To Daily Prompt: Brevity