WHOEVER TOLD ME life was easy—lied. It’s hard. It sucks. The crazy thing is—nobody has the guts to admit the truth. Everyone, and I mean everyone, has a secret. Everyone has a story that needs to be told. Hurt is everywhere; as humans we practically drown in its essence, yet we all pretend like it doesn’t exist. We make believe that everything is fine, when really, everything within us screams in outrage. Our soul pleads for us to be honest at least once in our lives. It begs of us to tell someone. It forces us to become vulnerable to somebody, to trust them with all we have to offer, and the very second that we do, everything seems better.
For a moment, life isn’t as hard as it seems. Effortless. It’s effortless, and then the gauntlet falls.
What makes you think you wanna know all of me? What makes you think you can handle it? What ever gave you the idea that I am a mystery waiting to unfold? And why would you think that I am waiting for someone to unravel me? Why the freaking hell would you think that even if I am, you are gonna be the one doing the unraveling? And why would you get this idea in your head that I can be broken in? Why the hell, I ask? Why does it seem so important to you, this discovering? And how would you even know that I have more to me than what meets the eye? What makes you believe you are capable of anything when it comes to me? Why? Why? WHY!?!
Change will come. Don’t doubt that, not even for a second. The screams that you have been hearing every single freaking night since those dreadful years will cease. The breaking of glass won’t make you flinch anymore. The ringing in your ears due to the sounds of gunshots fired that night won’t affect you anymore. You won’t feel the need to duck when somebody would put their arm around your shoulders some day. And a day will come when you won’t cringe whenever you hear that sweet nickname you have come to hate. You will stop getting the urge to hurl when somebody would so much as extend their hand for you to shake. Touching somebody and the thought of somebody touching you won’t make your stomach drop one of these days. And you will be able to hold a conversation, all on your own, without going into a panic attack everytime you will be in the limelight. You won’t feel like fleeing everytime you will become the focus, but will be there to clarify and get your point across. Yes, one of these days,you will be able to put your point forth instead of wishing to be swallowed up by earth whenever you will hear people talking shit about your life that they have no idea about. You will be strong one day. You will be okay again. You will change. Things will change. Change will come.
Note:It’s for everybody around who’s ever been a recipient of abuse,physical or mental, at some point in their lives. You all will be okay. Just hold on. Things will change. For the better. For best.
The moment she looked up towards the never ending envelope filled with the fluff, the sky opened up. And open it did. The roads were flooded, houses destroyed. Casualties all around. It was as if the sky was possessed. It was as if it had been waiting to cause all the destruction since forever. It was as if it had been waiting for her to look up. It was as if it had been waiting for her. Just her. Period.
I know what I want. I know all I desire. I know where I am going. I know where I am coming from. I know what I stand for. I know where I stand. I don’t listen to what I don’t want to. And I don’t do things that I don’t want to do. I know. I do.