If you know how difficult and how long it took me to recover from a traumatic experience, you'll understand why i shut all doors at any potential negativity and so selective about who I allow in my life
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Never in my life I've tried to make people stay . I realize it's better to keep it that way. we all grow apart for certain reasons. But it doesn't mean I will stop cheering for them, and that path they choose to go. The road may be different ahead but guess that's how it supposes to be. I learn to make peace with the fact / fate long ago !
Healing a broken heart is never an easy process.... For years , I've sit with my grief and gulp all the regret in my room and still find a piece of myself empty and void. Nothing ever fills me ; I'm a glutton who doesn't know what it needs. The habits I'm trying to leave, the people i miss, the urge to go back because everything seems hard hurts more than I can imagine. My heart is heavy despite the emptiness, and every night I keep wishing it will be better when I open my eyes tomorrow. It gets worse on some days, and okay-ish on others. I find myself letting go, moving on from things I shouldn't keep in my life yet I keep going back to the good memories and wondering if it's all necessary. If only there was a time machine, I would have never put my heart through such hell. The steps I'm taking ahead are so unrecognisable at times, i feel like I have barely moved. However, i know it, too, that i am removing myself a little more each day from the things I...
All of my life ...
A huge part of my healing process was anchored in the act of forgetting. I want to snatch every ugly experience and archive them so that it won't have a space in my future timeline. For many years, I was completely detached from the reality . I felt like a stray going with no hope of a home toward the end. And so I keep latching onto this chasm of mindless wander. That maybe when I undress this wound or strip this grief from this body it has occupied in, everything would turn out beautifully. But as I go on, I realized there are things I can't simply forget by just running away because that's not how it will always work. Sometimes, sitting with my grief reminds me of existing. And even then sometimes, it reminds me I am capable of feeling. When I am down and depressed, I try to pick up the pieces of little good things I can remember and fill it up with nothing but brightness. I run back to it. I start laying the bricks over again. I start living without trying to forget.....