Rush, rush me to the hospital. 
Look, look at my vitals. 
Check, check on my heart. 
Doctor declares I’m not brokenhearted. 
Doctor says I did this to myself. 
Self, self-inflicted. 
Come, come see how I’m complicit. 

This is no melody of melancholy. It is an anomaly of human nature how we can love someone who hurts us and the heart does not undo the attachment. I stuck with the pain for the glimpse of the prince. I knew you, once an angel I felt divinely blessed to be with, and then reality hit as your wings disappeared from my doting eyes. To be human is to be flawed and to be me is to love it all. This is no lovelorn tale, our story was properly shredded and collaboratively torn. And yet, lessons continue to come to light while our story stays dark. Human nature is a never ending lesson and I’m still learning at this age of 31. 

5 years later, history repeats itself in some ways and in other ways, the details and next chapters will read so vastly different. I do not carry the ache of missing you but I remember so much, too much, and it’s more than enough to remind myself that we’re a chapter forever done. So many lessons, so many memories, and now, the space between us is space needed and space best to keep far and wide. Day by day, month by month, I bask in my freedom. But when the sun sets and the light fades, the darkness slowly seeps into the sky and my mind. 

The space between us does us well and proves fruitful for my wild imagination and my wild days. I grow louder and so do my assumptions of what transpired between us. I pave a path for accusations, guesses, and theories to run, take flight, and then burn. My spaceship swiftly meets with flames in the atmosphere; this rocket of thoughts was built upon effete elements of my mental: simply swirls of sickly sentiments I stacked in my psyche. 

I zoom back to the lab. Grab a big beaker and madly mix a concoction of water, wishful thinking, wild thoughts, and weathered daydreams. The sediment that settles at the bottom of the glass stains my fingers. I could point the finger at you but my hands aren’t clean. I gather the data, lessons, and last thoughts. The lab is closed now.

My final thesis is still pending. Maybe I’ll abandon it in a few months’ time and put effort into other projects unrelated to you. If there’s a science to decoding past love, I’m a student in class and looking to drop out. Perhaps, at a higher probability rate, I’ll walk away from this classroom and instead walk to the godforsaken garden in my mind and move on from matters of the heart.

The rose plant you bought me one Valentine’s Day, they bloom in citrus colors, and as the days pass past their bloom, they lose all color and fade to white. Maybe that’s what happened to us; our hues faded into blank slates and blank stares. And I’m no cruel woman, even I know white roses are beautiful, too. Our blank pages leave space for new smiles to be sparked by a new someone.

A few coins for unused party supplies,
my emotions paid the cost. 
I shush my inner self’s screaming cries,
my brain wants the grief to get lost.
I tell myself, “I need to be more busy.”
I find my heartbeat in my stomach.
I find unloving you not so easy.
I’m no saint, I’m no angel,
I can make you both if I shift my mind
to an erroneously tilted angle.
Change my memory, blur the lines,
I’ve got the power all in my head,
history can certainly be redefined!
With all the books I read before bed,
I’ll take the blame this time.

5 years and some odd months, that’s what I chose.
Letting the arrows pierce my shields, that’s what I chose.
Giving it one more day, that’s what I chose.
Hugging you on another new day, that’s what I chose.
Sitting on the fence, that’s what I chose.
Waiting for an earthquake, that’s what I chose.
Choosing you, that’s what I chose.

Writer’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I am getting closer and closer to 100 posts!!! I’m motivated to reach that goal, sooner rather than in, like, 2030. I had a lot of fun writing this post, particularly my third-grade level poetry. It was inspired by a text conversation with a friend. It takes two to tango and I can admit I’m a terrible dancer and this specific dance ended long after the fun music stopped playing. Yikes. I know this topic will reach its duly end soon. I know the vultures are more than ready. Until next post, take care!

Note: I drafted this piece in 2020, finished it up in December 2021, and as 2022 approaches, I am sharing this. I’d like to propel myself into 2022 as someone who sticks up for herself, does not bandwagon for the sake of peace, and understands that losses are only losses if there are no lessons learned. I gently remark that I always learn something. Thank you for reading and enjoy.

I used to get lost in daydreams because I loved the possibilities of wondering what may happen and who I’ll become. Now, my daydreams are tiresome fantasies which no longer inspire or motivate. Perhaps, I got lost in my daydreams because I had a small spark of hope within me that they would grow from thoughts to a true reality for me.

Perhaps, we hold onto something we have desired and craved because we are human and want human connections. We are social creatures after all. Perhaps, I thought what I had wished for had come true. But, I forgot the notion of how we must be careful of what we wish for as not everything that glitters is gold and not all smiles are genuine.

I have grown severely tired of feeling I don’t belong anywhere. I thought, no, believed I had a place in this space but I was wrong. I’m not psychic nor am I overly confident, but I wish I could just know when I’m in the right place. I suppose that is life: figuring it out and learning along the way.

And here’s another thing about life. Life is not always a fun time. I have vehemently known that, always. But that does not change the impact of the disappointments I’ve experienced recently. Without divulging personal details, I am simply experiencing one of life’s rougher corners.

As I type and reflect, I’ll admit that yes, I know life is consistently fortuitous and perhaps, this was an accident waiting to happen. Perhaps, this was the dead end I needed to face to turn my life around and drive a new path. The unfamiliar is nerve-racking and feels like I’m grasping for someone’s hand in the dark. However, now, I’m not taking just anyone’s hand so that I can feel something. I’ve worked too hard to become who I am to falter at superficial sparring and meaningless materialistic matters.

In the past, all I did was run away from my problems. Escaping what I could and when I could was always the first and only option for me as I lacked confidence to confront my fearful emotions. I’m not that girl anymore. I’m a young woman who knows her worth and I won’t change who I am to conform to what others expect of me. I’m not in high school anymore. I’m 27 and I deserve better.

As I reflect and review my words, I’m reminded of the quote, “You are exactly where you are meant to be.” I’m exactly where I meant to be even when it’s confusing and uncomfortable. Change is inevitable and growth doesn’t always feel like being granted a pair of wings and flying into the distance. Sometimes, growth feels like slow hesitation of back and forth steps with some pauses in between. Sometimes, growth happens after you cry an embarrassing amount over a tacky and frivolous situation.

Another lesson I learned is that bravery takes practice and pressure is required. When voicing your opinion, especially one that is unpopular and undesired with the current crowd, it can feel daunting and isolating. But your voice is yours, not anyone else’s. Perhaps, I could have expressed myself better in a gentler and softer manner then. However, I still stand by what I said then, today. If I don’t speak up for myself, who will? And is there ever a matter too small of a stance to defend?

Perhaps, that point in time was pithy and petty. But as I reflect on it now, with time passed, there is additionally a particular lesson to take away. Sticking to my morals and beliefs may cause temporary loneliness but it is so rewarding to not change myself or do something I was not comfortable with because at the end of the day, my value is not defined by what others think of me.

Perhaps, my ego was bruised and my feelings were immaturely injured a year ago. Now, I can confidently say I am absolutely grateful for what happened in the past as it taught me multiple lessons. If I could tell my 26-year-old self something, it would be these two sentiments: Never make yourself a victim. Hold onto your virtues.

On that note, I look forward to 2022. How about yourself? I know it’s going to be bold, sparkling, and undeniably brilliant! Happy Holidays and Happy New Year, everyone!

I softly reminisce about the days I lived in a one-bedroom apartment with my mom, my two little sisters, and a being I would prefer not to give a proper name. I was at the age where my homework was studying for the spelling test every Friday. Once, my sweet mother was helping me learn to spell the word, “author”. She kindly gave me a hint that it was the name of a character I had regularly watched on TV. She meant Arthur. Second grade was the grade where my teacher told my mom during the parent-teacher conference that I talked too much. That hasn’t changed.

In the third grade, I discovered my love for cheese pizza and learned that I needed to close my mouth when I chewed food. It was in the fourth grade where I learned to not rudely and abruptly interrupt people who were having a conversation. Fifth grade was the beginning of a long and embarrassing struggle of trying to fit in with what’s cool until I was in high school and realized that every household had different incomes. If I could go back in time, I wish I didn’t wear my neighbor’s old squeaky pair of Jordan’s just so that I could feel ‘cool’ or ‘normal’. I was always fed, had my own room and bed to sleep in, the lights always stayed on, but I didn’t realize what was truly important at that time. Now, I do.

I remember thinking that at 21 years old, I’d be living by myself, paying for my own cable and other bills, and officially be a grown-up.

Now, I am turning 25… paying bills is not as fun as I thought it would be and cable is no longer a thing of my generation. Then comes the question of would I consider myself a grown-up? No, at least, not yet. I’ve still got so much to figure out and learn, and more importantly, many more mistakes to make. And the funny thing about life is that we don’t know that we’ve made a mistake until after the repercussions arrive and we have to face the consequences. Do I need to list 24 mistakes and one big lesson I’ve learned? No, I’d be reiterating the entirety of my blog, ha! But one thing I’d like to repeat is that I believe everything happens for a reason.

Every. Single. Thing.

From me staying up all night on anime forums and attempting to get my animation skills up to the Pixar standard to switching high schools back and forth to working the various jobs before I landed my current position. Even though I am entering my mid-20’s, I deeply believe I’ll carry my childhood with me for decades to come. As a child, I lived in daydreams of worlds beyond this planet and I still find myself in random reveries from time to time.

As I reflect on my childhood, which had various epochs that I know still influence my present-day personality, it makes me ponder about what of my 20’s and 30’s will carry onto my 50’s and 60’s.

A significant yet odd era of my teenage years was the period where I was not genuine nor was I true to myself. I ached to fit in with my peers and felt the pressure to do and say things I did not completely align with just to feel accepted, or so I thought. Those days feel like a fragment of my imagination because it is such a sharp contrast to my current reality. I believe life is too short to be anyone but yourself. I wish 14-year-old me knew this, but no 14-year-old knows everything. But that’s the beauty of life, it is the journey of learning and experiencing.

I experienced x, y, and a thousand other z’s, and yet I continue to yearn to learn more. It’s not over because it’s really just beginning. My mentality and mannerisms are two significant aspects I’m constantly evaluating so that I can evolve as a friend, a sister, a daughter, an employee, and the list goes on. My mind will not stop blooming for I have many more seasons and sunrises to see. I am excited, to say the least, to be 25 and truly thrive in life!

Thank you for reading!