About the can of worms

The flashback hurt has passed. The strongest liquor I poured myself wasn’t strong enough tho. Working on that ;)

Ever soaring

I’m tired of being “the mom” of the group. I don’t mind taking care of my friends or looking after them when they’re beyond salvation (usually during a night out)... What hurts is realising that, when I’m in need of a “mom”-friend or need someone to take care of me or even simply just listen to the hurt I’m going through, there’s no one left to turn to. The realisation that your closest friends don’t even realise you’re hurting, might hurt even more - the suffering just keeps piling up! Ah, the bittersweet curse of being the tower of strength for all, but never having one of your own. P.S.: Thank god I know I’ll be fine in a few moments, when I’ve worked all the hurt and heartache out of my system and cried till my tears dried up. Here’s to you, fellow towers! May we be ever soaring and always provide a shoulder to lean on, even if we don’t have one ourselves.

The first step of admitting you're lost - in life, in love, in everything - is admitting it to yourself. For me, the hardest will be to accept I need my friends and family. And then even more: to admit that I can't get there on my own.

Haven’t sunken that low tho. We keep our head high and pretend it’s fine until it is, or we believe it to be so. When I asked someone once upon a time not too long ago  if he’d choose a blissful lie and never get hurt or discover the hurt and move on eventually, he immediately chose the blissful lie. No hesitation, he didn’t even blink. Apart from the fact that I was enormously disappointed by his choice... That is not and will never be me, and that is why I am proud of myself sometimes: facing the hurt and deliberately choosing to takes courage and strength.

This is true for all other feelings as well, though especially negative ones. Just breathe and let go.

The thing about old hurt is that it's just that: old. You can feel the pain like it was yesterday, but you've come so far since then and you take comfort in knowing that you've moved on. Hurting so much your heart aches is okay too - it doesn't set you back to where you were but rather lets you move on.

H. Camus

To everyone I know and everyone that cares about me and my well-being and even state of mind: I'm not doing okay. At all. Don't believe me. I've just gotten quite good at hiding it, most of the time. Do not despair, however. I'm far from there, but at least I'm already pointing in the right direction. I only need to face everything and I'll be fine. You know me, you know I will. And I'll get there on my own, or I'll get by with a little help of my friends.

H. Camus

Goddamn can of worms

All the feels. Holy hell. A friend recently asked what had happened to my old blog, he couldn’t find it anymore and thought that was a shame, he said he’d always liked my posts and the raw... Everything, I guess, it portrayed. I was quite sure I never deleted it, so I went looking and here we are: looking back and seeing myself, my past self.

I started scrolling and reading, felt nostalgic and endearing in a way to see how dramatic I thought my (love)life was. Untill I started reading whilst scrolling and until I started to remember how much pain I went through back then, how much heartache I endured. It’s funny actually, how today, just a couple of years later, I had forgotten how much it hurt. Well I can tell you, memories are a bitch cause I might as well have traveled back to those days. Not only do I remember, I feel. Everything. All the hurt, all at once. I feel like my heart has physically been ripped from my chest and I’m left with a gaping hole, it’s ridiculous. Or tells me that some of the hurt I faced years ago cut so deep that it still hasn’t healed. I don’t know, I don’t want to know and I don’t care - doesn’t change the way it feels. Some things I wrote about or posted are still very much a perfect description of me today, which is confronting and frightening at the same time - even after a few years, nothing really has changed, everything is still the same and I’ll be stuck with this gaping hole for all eternity, and then some.

Maybe that’s the key to happiness in love: forgetting the hurt and moving on. I’ll let you know when I’ve forgotten the flashback hurt. But for now, I’m gonna have a good cry, a cigarette, wallow in hurt, selfpity and hopelessness and a pour myself a shot of the strongest liquor I own.

I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place.

Michael Faudet     

“I love you” doesn’t mean a fucking thing if you spit it down the throat of every girl who makes you feel less dead.