Tonight, if ever you feel down or a little bit worse of yourself, I want you to remember the things that keeps me awake at night.
The way your mind holds a galaxy I could not fathom— I could not even put adjectives at.
The way your eyes deepen as though as the ocean floor I could not swim— I could not even breathe but I’ll try to go there, to help you resurface again.
The way your lips curve— the way they utter words I needed to hear to save my day.
Tonight, if ever you feel a little bit lower than before, I want you too look up at heavens made out of pixie dust so you can fly using your wings.
You are so much loved, your eyes maybe deep but they’re magical. Your lips may crack but they never lack. Your mind may play tricks to you but you’re a conqueror.
Sometimes, thoughts are the ones hardest to tame and unconsciously, we turn them into monsters we’re scared of. You aren’t meant to create wars against yourself but you’re meant to fight against it if it’s the only way that you can feel sober for the meantime.
So tonight, if ever you feel worst— don’t you worry for we are all feeling that way. It’s just that, right now you already have me to remind you of your worth. To remind you that bad habits aren’t the only ones who know how to stay because I do. To remind you that life isn’t about the things you are afraid to say— it is about the things you are afraid to say but say it anyway.
I know you feel worst more than the times you told me you did— but remember, I am too but now that I have you, I could never consider worst things for I had you and that’s the best thing I could only remember.
I always wonder why I’m still here, why I’m doing this—writing you something so when you wake up you’ll remember your worth and how much you are loved, maybe because I cannot help it. You are just too much that I couldn’t think less of you.
I always know that I can survive a day without you, or even months but I guess, that’s also the reason why I can’t. I know I can leave anytime and just become distant but that made me want to keep you inside my arms— never letting go. I know I can stop seeing you but the thought of it wants me to memorize your face more, with all your insecurities and flaws.
I know I can always choose not to love you, but it just made me choose to love you even more.
There are days when I’m always thinking of ways on how to assure you that I will never leave a space without periods in every sentence I will give you. How to keep the words left in my head, figuring how gorgeous your angles are everytime you feel so down. How to learn your point of views in different kind of poetry so I can relate whenever you’re ranting. I am always thinking of ways on how to love you, without the thought of leaving you breathless— grasping for words you could not utter.
I know I can always choose not to choose you but I know, it just made me choose to love you still despite the uncertainties that tells me not to.
I used to wonder why I fell deeply inlove with you, then I realized maybe it’s your voice too soothing, it calmed my anxieties to sleep. Or maybe it’s your eyes full of promises that made up my mind when I’m full of doubts and uncertainties. Or maybe your lame jokes that picks me up whenever I don’t feel like smiling. Or maybe the way your lips move with mine, assuring me things I am afraid to admit. Or maybe your words, too bittersweet it tasted liquor, I was intoxicated.
Or maybe none of the above for I fell for you when I have no reasons left. I fell the moment I felt nothingness surrounding my heart. I fell when no one was there to pick me up late at night. I fell when I realized that you are the only one, without validation, who saw me pick myself up and helped me get through a day with funny conversations.
I think I fell the moment I saw you vulnerable, without the mask of confidence and popularity but with honesty and softness. When you told me things that ruined your childhood and the things that opened your eyes in seeing the cruelness of this world. When you hold me tight in the middle of doubts and dishonesty. I think I fell hard when you extend consistency and love to reach me, to get a hold of me— to grasp me when I couldn’t hold on any longer.
I guess, the worst type of pain for a writer is letting yourself bleed with ink and grasp for words you couldn’t write because it doesn’t feel right.
I’m on that certain point of my life wherein I’m doubting myself for believing too much, for giving too much, for letting myself fall way too much. I realized how soft I am that I started getting colder for no apparent reason. I started looking weary and shaky for I am losing my appetite in everything I do. I am losing myself.
Sometimes, it scares me to open up. To give out my soul, my brokenness, my thoughts. Sometimes, people thought I’m having a bad mood or I just slept on wrong side of my bed but never did they know that I’m always having this chest pain and haywired thoughts, wanting to be scribbled. Wanting to be shared. Wanting to be shouted.
I guess, the hardest part of being a writer is that, no one is willing to go deeper just to understand you figuratively while you bleed yourself for them to be the best character in your story.
I’m never on that certain point in life where life is better. I’ve been on the side, or maybe behind gazing, wondering for the lighter days to come.
Sometimes, it feels like my heart will never get used in feeling okay that everytime something good happens, I question it thoroughly. I question every compliment, every good people, every love given to me.
But right now,
I learned to just go with the flow. To risk and to try more often. To pick myself up after being torn into pieces. To dance under the pouring rain, and to sing my significance in the midst of thunderstorms.
I learned to live my life the way it is, not the way I want it to be.