Words.
It was words that I fell for. In the end, it was words that broke my heart.
(Lang Leav)
...
I spent my time writing until I couldn't write anything anymore.
Back then I thought that reading what I wrote could make me feel alive once more. I thought I would like the nostalgia of the old days, greenish images, movie like adventures. However I was wrong.
I was very very wrong.
I couldn't read a single thing without regretting.
I couldn't read without wishing for a time machine to be invented. Without wishing that I could beat some sense into my sixteen-year-old self. Perhaps a younger me.
A thirteen-year-old me.
"Stop trying to fit in, you never will and you're never meant for it anyway. You're hurting your wanderer soul."
Have you accepted your soul sooner, you wouldn't need to face the heaviness from the things that you keep holding on without letting go.
...
.
Things I wished I could've said to my younger self
.
You have no obligation to feel everything so deeply for other people.
You can say no when you don't want to, even if it hurt them. They can keep their burden to themselves, it's theirs to settle, you don't have to take them in.
You shouldn't regret your existence.
The universe didn't create you by accident. The Lord didn't make you without purpose. No matter how lost or how useless you feel, you'll find a purpose in life. You'll find something you love doing and you will find someone who you can come home to. You belong in this world.
You are loved, Mandy.
You may not be able to give back all the love you receive in your life, but you can love all those that you can.
The world is like that, Mandy. It's meant to be like that.
.
.
.
The One Thing.
Look at you. You've stitched your life so perfectly together. You work so damn hard to get to where you are, and now have everything you ever wanted. So why do you keep looking back at the one thing that can undo it all?
(Lang Leav)
.
.
.
...
I have given too much excuses.
This space must come to an end. Perhaps I'll be writing again in the future but I'll make sure that I don't write excuses anymore.
I thought I was trying to rationalize things that I could see.
It's ok Mandy, it's meant to be like that. It's okay Mandy, heartache aren't going to last forever. It's okay Mandy, you'll be okay, they deserve it. However deep down I know that heartache are going to last if I don't put things to an end and not everyone deserve to feel down just because they couldn't figure out what I truly feel inside.
I've concealed so much of me.
I buried everything under layers and layers of skin and I expect people to see right through it. I expect people to see through my eyes and see how little I talk about what's inside my heart and brain.
How ironic of me.
I shall care about the right things.
It doesn't matter what I have for dinner, but who I'm having dinner with. It doesn't matter where I'm going back to, but who I'm coming home too. It doesn't matter how uncertain I am about my future, but who my future is. No more worrying about how tomorrow will go, but who I'm walking through it with.
There shall be no excuses anymore.
I shall live.
