Hi all,
I never intended for this to be a sad blog.
When I was still crushing on my ex, I had 3 volumes of diary filled to the brim with the angst and unspent passions of a pubescent girl in the throes of her first serious crush. When I finally got him after waiting in the wings about 2 years, before finally saying goodbye in the 11th month, I continued the diaries, adding 2 more volumes. Pages and pages of roller-coaster emotions, enough happiness to sing and run around in stormy weather, jumping and laughing and gasping for joyful breath, licking raindrops, then another page dissecting my relationship down to its most miniscule excuses, looking for the reasons why he didn’t want to spent more time with me, what did I do wrong, why am I all empty inside, so on and forth. Pages and pages of guilt, remorse and regret, then anger and denial, then tears and loss.
Then I stopped writing. Because every word hurts. Even the happy ones, the innocent entries starting off with hope of seeing him and going out for a movie, knowing in the next entry, somebody changed his mind about meeting again.
During those days, I wrote because I was too emotional. This unburdening of words will come spewing out like a can of shaken cola, so I wrote to dispel them all in neat little letters or angry scribbles that gashes the pages. I wrote them all down so like snarling animal, I could then lock it all up and put it away, the eminent danger of that choking emotion having no chance to surface in the form of self-mutilation or whatever it was girls do to draw attention away from emotional pain.
Since then, I had found calm and peace. Then later, I found forgiveness and forgetfulness. If not for the diaries, I would be at a loss to remember exactly what happened during those years of my life. Once the worst of the hormones have passed, Life became more tranquil.
I’ve grown up. Happiness is something I’ve always appreciated, whereas happiness was more like a ticket to the moon previously, happiness now is like a cup of hot coffee in your hands whilst standing in cold weather. So equally does the sadness melt from an angry funeral pyre to smothering ashes.
I digress again, as usual.
What I meant to say is:
I’m glad I’m grown up.
I’m glad I don’t feel bone-crushing emotions anymore.
I’m glad I’m now in control.
What I really meant to say is:
There is a crack in AKK’s Life. Always has been, just never written down, not even said.
Like my diaries, perhaps the next entry will be a happier one.
I never intended for this to be a sad blog.
Sorry.
I never intended for this to be a sad blog.
When I was still crushing on my ex, I had 3 volumes of diary filled to the brim with the angst and unspent passions of a pubescent girl in the throes of her first serious crush. When I finally got him after waiting in the wings about 2 years, before finally saying goodbye in the 11th month, I continued the diaries, adding 2 more volumes. Pages and pages of roller-coaster emotions, enough happiness to sing and run around in stormy weather, jumping and laughing and gasping for joyful breath, licking raindrops, then another page dissecting my relationship down to its most miniscule excuses, looking for the reasons why he didn’t want to spent more time with me, what did I do wrong, why am I all empty inside, so on and forth. Pages and pages of guilt, remorse and regret, then anger and denial, then tears and loss.
Then I stopped writing. Because every word hurts. Even the happy ones, the innocent entries starting off with hope of seeing him and going out for a movie, knowing in the next entry, somebody changed his mind about meeting again.
During those days, I wrote because I was too emotional. This unburdening of words will come spewing out like a can of shaken cola, so I wrote to dispel them all in neat little letters or angry scribbles that gashes the pages. I wrote them all down so like snarling animal, I could then lock it all up and put it away, the eminent danger of that choking emotion having no chance to surface in the form of self-mutilation or whatever it was girls do to draw attention away from emotional pain.
Since then, I had found calm and peace. Then later, I found forgiveness and forgetfulness. If not for the diaries, I would be at a loss to remember exactly what happened during those years of my life. Once the worst of the hormones have passed, Life became more tranquil.
I’ve grown up. Happiness is something I’ve always appreciated, whereas happiness was more like a ticket to the moon previously, happiness now is like a cup of hot coffee in your hands whilst standing in cold weather. So equally does the sadness melt from an angry funeral pyre to smothering ashes.
I digress again, as usual.
What I meant to say is:
I’m glad I’m grown up.
I’m glad I don’t feel bone-crushing emotions anymore.
I’m glad I’m now in control.
What I really meant to say is:
There is a crack in AKK’s Life. Always has been, just never written down, not even said.
Like my diaries, perhaps the next entry will be a happier one.
I never intended for this to be a sad blog.
Sorry.
Love, AKK
