The sun in my life



Unrestrained, unchained feelings. If it hurts anyone’s sentiments, so be it.


Why does it have to be this way? With everything having crashed down already, with all hopes dead, with hatred breeding where once love sat, why does it have to feel this way?There’s frustration pulsing inside of me, anger throbbing hard enough to drive me insane, no, I don’t blame you for this but hear me out – if a rose pricks you, you don’t blame the rose for hurting you right? You blame yourself for being so stupid as to hold something which doesn’t want to be held. But still you tell yourself, “Had the rose not been here, I wouldn’t have felt so hurt”, the indirect blame still lives on. This is how selfish we all are, we still need to blame something, because all that anger piled up needs to be dumped somewhere else.

I wish I knew what went wrong. I don’t wish to correct anything, its a sign of weakness. Because for me, I never went wrong with my ideals from my point of view, God knows what bothered you so much –  was it my declaration of love? My remarks on your likeness? My little nonsensical deeds and talks that amounted to utter gibberish? My weakness? My insecurities? My brokenness? My handicapping anxiety? My hopelessness? Me?

If I am to publish this then I will make sure that you don’t get to read this from any source, and I know you’ve never been to my blog ever so I don’t need to worry about you hitting up the Address bar with my blog’s address.

I want to let you know this that I’ve been trying hard to let go, trying hard to move on, and believe me it is working so well. I have started caring less about talking to you, started caring less about knowing your whereabouts, started caring less about how your day goes by, or how you feel. I want to let you know that it hurts this way. A lot. This anger shall be unleashed one day, perhaps, and I will break down. No one would care.

I still find you beautiful, even in this phase I think about you, you still rule my mind and it makes me want to laugh at my own face. Three months have passed and yet its hard to move on. I hate you. You didn’t keep your word at all. You want to avoid me, maybe you feel I will chase you around with my “feelings” and let you know about them every now and then. Maybe you find me disgusting. I don’t regret confessing. I regret having hoped that you would stay the same, because you didn’t. Maybe the confession wasn’t even the line between the “before” and “after”, maybe it was included in the “after” all along. Maybe you started to avoid me way before the confession. Maybe I was too dumb to notice.

You are a bad friend, at least for me. I shouldn’t have fallen for you. Should’ve not talked to you after completing the work I contacted you for your help in.

I put you on a pedestal, forced you to look down upon me, and just see where I am now. We barely talk, and it still surprises me how you hold the “remote-control” to my happiness. Why is it not in my hands but in yours? What have you done to me? I feel so broken.

I have dreamed of you more than I have dreamed of anyone in such a small time. Consecutive dreams, went for 7 days straight. You weren’t talking to me, as always, and I missed you so much. Missed your small talks. It drove me insane, knowing that it barely affects you while I burn up in my own pathetic misery. You wouldn’t bat an eye if I disappeared, would take you months to even notice something’s wrong.

Your voice that once filled my wounds with warmth now stabs deeper right in those same wounds. Yet I admit that your voice is so far the most beautiful I have ever heard in real life. I mean there are singers out there but talking about people whom I know, people around me, then yep, for me your chords are Cupid’s harp. I am a broken mess, a pathetic hypocrite.

You’ve impressed me by breaking me, by doing literally nothing. Nothing.

Do not choke on unspoken words please. If there is something I should know, do tell me. I don’t expect anything, if my presence causes you discomfort, I will be sure that not even a word of mine reaches your eyes. Just tell me. Tell me to leave, tell me that I bother you and the best thing for the both of us would be that one of us leaves. By one of us I mean, just me. I want to leave, I want to be in control, I want to have the last word.

My happiness should belong right here with me, not with you.

Do I not sound egoistic, selfish, prideful? I told you I was selfish. I am thinking of myself, of my own mental health. For once I don’t care how you perceive this, I just want to let it all out. All this pent up frustration and anger, burning me from within, crippling me beyond recovery.

You helped me out so much, its all fading now. I could feel that warmth whenever I talked to you, now its all just so cold and lifeless.

The sun in my life. Flew too close to you and burnt myself to the bone.

I miss writing with you.

Thought we could hangout a little more but its all a dream now.

It didn’t have to end this way you know. You didn’t have to put me in such a position where I loathe you, and love you. Inner conflicts? No, not mere conflicts but wars and battles that never end, wars and battles which you already have won.

When you came as a helping hand, I was more than happy to hold yours and leave my little sphere of negativity. I just felt so healthy that time, I could breathe again, waking up was never a chore, but an activity I would love to do, as of course I would find messages waiting to be opened, sent by no one but you. My whole day would sparkle up seeing your messages.

Coal drenched hair and eyes like ebony, smiles that put the sun to shame, and a voice that fiddles symphonies.

You are art, a breathing poetry, with words that sing melodies sweeter than sugar. Now just imagining your picture in my head makes me want to slit my wrists. Why am I such a fool? Why do I still long for your messages, your attention when all I get is nothing at all? I just feel so angry I tell you, not because of anything but only because you choose to avoid me without letting me know why, all you have to do is let me know.

I will cut myself off from your life soon. I cannot tolerate this at all. I feel like banging my head into a wall whenever I read your name. If only I could just forget you forever. I will cut myself off, and it won’t bother you even a bit, would take you weeks to notice that I have even done it.

I am just a hopeless little imbecile who dreamed of ruling the skies with my wings, little did I know that fake feathers fixed with wax won’t get me anywhere.

You have won the war, you have defeated me. I am but a soldier cowering behind a rock now, waiting for an explosion to finally blow me into pieces.





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