My Unwritten Diary

I’ve tried to communicate on how I feel on multiple occasions about you not speaking to me. How do you go for hours or even days with saying anything to me? I guess you do say something, but the content of the conversation is abysmal. I feel at lost ends here, because I feel that I’m fighting with myself. Making excuses that he’s just busy, and not ghosting me. Him telling me he’s not or he’s just busy… but baby, we’re together… do you not miss me? Do you not think of me? I’m crying on my pillow hoping I could even sleep through the thought of us separating. I tell myself, it’ll be a short while till you see him, a short while till you say “I love you,” a short while to have him in your arms again… but what if I don’t have a short while left? What if I’m done by the time he’s ready to give me the affection I’ve asked for? It’s not too far from what could happen.. honestly, I will eventually let go, because all this crying, this lovesickness is not healthy for my weak heart. If this continues I have to choose myself and leave so I can pick up and heal. To leave before it gets any worse.. to leave before I could even love you. To love you before we could even start. How does one leave someone when it’s only of recent I’ve realized I love you? The distance between hello, I love you, to goodbye is too quick. I can only blame how frail I am when I love someone.

I feel as if you’re being parsimonious with your feelings versus I’m profoundly generous with mine. I don’t cut corners with how I feel, and I’m extremely expressive. Maybe that’s my red flag? I show too much and feel too much. I just wanna give, but when is it my turn to receive? I just want a little attention, a little care, some presence. I know I’m not crazy and my gut is telling me there is something wrong. You tell me not to over think about things, but you’ve given me the grounds to think excessively. I’m so insecure, and all I do is fear for the worse. I’m so worried that I’m wasting time and energy trying to grow something that’s been dead for so long. All I ask is for you to show me some affection, because I’m at the breaking point of just going mute and numb. That’s when you know you officially lose me and I’ll never look back on it, because you had all the time to have me.

I fear that this empty space that’s suppose to be filled with love and memories is to stay in the grey. Looking at it looks like a picture book with ripped pages, sad and confused of what is suppose to be. I thought this shared bond was suppose to be effervescent and not banal exchanges of words. I just want to be missed, I want to be loved, and to be wanted. Where is your presence among all this grey colored areas? I’m sure eventually I’ll adapt to the emptiness and realize this space we share is getting bigger, but with nothing in it. I fear that it’ll be the same with the last where I have colored every painting with a painter who can only paint with grey. To tarnish every color and tones I have to a sad shade of pastel. When will you realize that you miss me? When I adapt to the color you have? By then we’ll both be damned by the emptiness of the grey space between us.

I haven’t thought about you in a while, it until last night. I know I can just easily text you, but I still don’t feel safe to even speak to you. I hope you are well, and happy. That’s all I’ve ever wished for you to be. I know from our last conversation I said “I hate you”. Its not too far off from what I really feel, but yeah I meant it. I guess, in that moment that’s all I could say was the things I knew could hurt you. Yet to this very day, I regret saying all the things were said to you. Including the forbidden words. Before I go into a tangent.. take care of yourself.

I hate how when I’m alone I slowly forget you, and one little hello and I’m back at square one feeling like a tantrum filled baby. I hate how you have the power to control how I feel, and that I have this weak willed ferocity that means nothing. I become anxious, weak, vulnerable, and lost, because I love you. I’ve never been the same since I’ve met you. I feel oh so broken and feel so demoralized. I hate having no control over my emotions and body, but when I see you, when I talk to you, I just feel weak in my knees and I surrender, because the very little love and attention you give feels so good. I started to love you from afar, and I dream of us of what could of been. Right before I sleep I think “oh, I hope he had a good day, and I hope he’s happy.” Right when I wake up or when I decide to leave me hallowed bed I wish I’d wake up to him instead of the empty spaces around me. I miss you, I hate you, I love you, you ruined me. I can’t find myself to honor my love for myself nor give myself the strength to pull it together. It’s so hard to gather my thoughts, because I’m not okay. As I unpack this to my therapist, my friends, and on here.. I feel as though my progress won’t continue if you don’t leave me. Please, leave me. I can’t take it anymore. I hate feeling weak and unloved by you. I just want to leave but I don’t even have the courage to leave without thinking… what if he came looking for me? I know he isn’t worth it, but in my given situation I forgot how to remove myself.

During this time period, I’ve learned how to be alone. If my friends know me this has been the most single I’ve been. It’s liberating, but it gets lonely. Yeah I deleted that New Years post, because I was sad to realize that I lived through the lens of a dream. It wasn’t real, and I can’t be that person to love someone who doesn’t want to love me. It was especially hard during Valentine’s Day. It’s my favorite holiday, because even when I’m single I loved seeing the amount of happiness and love people were giving each other. I guess this year felt different. I wanted to cry, I wanted him here with me. That whole day as a crazy person I looked at his story on Instagram multiple times… but all I saw was him happy with another man. Reminding myself he isn’t mine and I’ll never be his. Though I was in so much pain I was so happy. To watch him be happy, to see him smile, and that at least one of us won the raffle.

A few weeks after, I self harmed myself. I was in so much emotional pain. I wanted to feel anything else but the feeling I was feeling. Everything touched, I was numb to it all. I bashed my legs with a hammer, and drew lines on my wrists with a knife. My mother found me bleeding, but it wasn’t so much for me to die. My mother took me to the hospital, and dreaded on my mistakes. My mother asked me why I did.. I told her I’m unwell. She lied to the doctors, and sent me home. Recovered after a week.. and dreaded some more. I regret the suicidal me coming back but the voices never stop even when I was a kid. I just got better at muting it all growing up. This is why I’m on a journey to love myself, because I hope it may slightly fix me. I knew I was broken but I didn’t know how far gone I was.

There hasn’t been a day that I’ve stopped thinking about you, and as time extends I just think about you more. The idea of us, the thoughts of if he’s taking care of himself, and if he’s thinking of me. I miss you so much, but the space between us is needed. I just want you to know that no matter what you’ll always cross my mind. You’re a future I hope for.

It’s been a while now, and I feel like the distance between us has expanded greatly. I would be lying if I didn’t say I miss you, but I don’t think you’d want to hear that, right? I know you don’t want to hear from me, but just know I hope you’re happy, but not like you were with me. I’m selfish, and I know I don’t want to let you go, but for the meantime or this is a goodbye right? Maybe it’s not a farewell, and we said those words that day, because we needed hope. I don’t know maybe I’m the one who is not hoping for the best. I’m scared you see? I’m scared to let go, but I’m also scared to let you back in. From what I know about myself I need to move on and to carry on. If our crossroads meet again then I’ll take you open arms, but this gut feeling I’ve been having it’s my fight or flight instinct telling me to leave. You were great, a beautiful memory, an epic story that could of ended so lovely, but things fall apart eventually right? At the end of the day I need to run to the future I know I deserve, and if you catch me or find me again I won’t hesitate, because you’re what I want, and if my run takes me to places that changes my mind then so be it. We’re in control of our own happiness, and we always have a choice how to write our story. I will always choose my happiness with or without you. I WILL ALWAYS CHOOSE ME over anyone.

How it started was the first man entering his life, his father. Just like most fathers, he gave so much for his son and loved him endlessly and unconditionally. Sadly, one day he disappeared and just to find out his father had another woman with multiple kids. As a young child he didn’t understand the weight of that withheld in his mother. That was the tipping point for her and the son, but he wouldn’t know or understand till he came of age to what a heartbreak felt. My father left his wife and the son for the family he already created. Due to the father’s infidelity the mother fled to the states to create a new life for themselves. The mother then explained in tears that his father would follow, but as he grew up into a young adult the son then realized that’s a lie. The mother was baffled on how the son took it and how he came to realize on it. For a whole year the mother asked the child if he was okay, and proceeded to say “I’m okay.”

That child is me, and I am unpacking this now, because I’ve never really spoke upon it. It helped that a friend had told me, “That butterflies in your stomach feeling? That doesn’t always translate to affection, but it can be a flight or fight response to reoccurring trauma.” That echoed down into me, and what it reminded me was that my father loved me, gave me something that made me feel one of a kind, and made me feel like I was invincible, because I had his love. That feeling I get when I meet someone that I may potentially love.. I get those butterflies. Not due to him making me feel good, but fear. That the pattern is reckless men who use, manipulate, cheat, rape, and hurt me. I’m cursed to be loved by my oppressor and curse to love them back. It’s agonizing, because just like my father.. he took my heart and walked out of my life, and so men entering my life consistently does so as if it were an open door with no keys nor locks.

That’s my story on why I try to constantly find love especially in those who don’t particularly deserve mine. I don’t blame my father, I blame myself allowing men to taint me just because I always believe in the good of people. I’m only human, and I’m at that point where I don’t need it anymore. I just want happiness wether that’s from me or from something else. I can only dream what my life could be alone in a house filled with the very happiness I hope my life is capable of having. I’m willing to trade my ability to love over the overflowing happiness I can receive when I’m alone.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met? Is it the comfort you gave me throughout the time we spent? Is that what I miss or is it the temporary replacement of what I need? I need you now, but I don’t know you yet and that is what scares me. Just like the seasons it changes through night and day like how our lives collided. It started so sweet just like the cherry blossoms blooming in spring, but wilts after a few weeks. I’m guessing that’s how I pictured us, a temporary moment.  A part of me just hopes that this is just me over-reacting to pain or the suffering of men like you walking in and out of my life as if they owned me. So, who are you? Who are you to me, and what type of pain will you inflict in my life that a man hasn’t already? Why do I always play the kind hearted fool? Why am I always a prisoner of my love? My compassion? My willing to understand an individual? Why...? Why do I choose people over myself? It’s because I’m desperately looking for you to give me that piece I’ve been missing for so long.

Me: yes mama, he does!

A day later*

My mother: baby are you okay?

After sharing my dark past with you, you consoled me and told me you wouldn’t dare to do those things to me. The physical and mental abuse flashes back into me and an echo screamed to my very soul. “He’s just like the rest, and would hurt you like so.” I believed he wouldn’t hurt me, that he wouldn’t lie to me, that he wouldn’t cheat on me, and that he’d respect me as a human being. I’m mocking myself as I play the fool, because I knew you were gonna ruin me like the rest. I was afraid of being alone for the longest time, and now I’m being held by that very loneliness that I feared. Trapped by the repetition of words these people I loved, or rather thought I loved. I reconcile with that loneliness and cope with the very minimal amounts of love I have left for myself.

He didn’t love me, none of them did. If they did love me then it was an abusive love. This anger grows inside of me, and it just opens my eyes even more how love is a privilege. A privilege I don’t think I want anymore, because no matter how hard I fight for it I still lose. I always lose, and I think I’m coming to an understanding that I’m over the concept of love, and having a life long partner. 

To whom the shoe may fit, I hope you find happiness at least for I have no hope for it in my life. 

He asked for us to talk later that night, but I didn’t think anything serious about it due to us always having talks. This one was different, it messed me up inside and felt so many emotions. 

Our conversation was about why we shouldn't be together, and he gave two reasons. One, being a witch and how he doesn’t like the idea of having his family and future children knowing about witchcraft. Second, Our intellectual stand points are different. Before I say more I want to say he used a lot of poor choices with his words.

The worse part was that I had asked him “Are you breaking up with me?” He couldn’t answer me and just continued to ramble  on why we shouldn’t be together. He was so afraid of what I would say to him, but I let him spoke his truth instead of me going on an episode. I wanted to hear more even though it was hurting me.. I repressed so much emotion, but I told myself he needed his voice to be heard. It was hard, because I was looking at him in the eyes, but he’d sway his eyes to the side. He couldn’t look at me... He feared me. I knew it was over as soon as I asked him that question. You know how bad it is to ask someone if they're breaking up with you, because they're too scared to say it? I can say a hundred other things that was written all over your face, but I chose to let you speak. 

You fear witches, or witchcraft, but we have done nothing to you. We’re a dying species... why? Most of choose not to procreate, because we don’t want the next generation to suffer as we lived our lives. My people were killed throughout the world for just living or being a little different. We were crusaded throughout the lands saying we were evil by the people of Catholicism and Christianity. All just by doing something that wasn’t up to their vision. Before Science it was witchcraft... but now people in this era claim it as science, but deem the other stuff unreliable due to evidence. So when proven it becomes science? Are you appropriating our craft? The moral to it all.. why would you fear me, us, my people who was attacked by those people. If anything you should fear those who crusaded us and many others’ in history. We just wanted to be left alone.. My next argument is just like Witches, Christians, and Catholics and etc.. It does not define they are good or bad people. Anyone can be good, or bad. It’s what you do with the beliefs that decides if you’re bad or good. With the things I’ve learned, I was taught to learn control, and to be wary of things. To defend myself if things go south. I’ve learned the scariest, mind boggling, and inhumane like teachings ,but do I decide to use them to harm others? No, I used my gifts to help others... So tell me why that’s terrifying?

Having kids who are born as a witch is a gift in my eyes. I will share my secrets with them, but they can choose to not pursue their heritage. I will always give my children their choice, and I won’t force them into doing something they hate. At the end of the day it’s their life, and I won’t take their choice away from them. I teach them to warn them and to protect themselves, but again if I procreate.. I won’t always have a child with the gift. You’ll either be born with it or not, and it’s that simple. 

His poor choice of words of not being on the same intellectual level hurt me, because he knows where I am and know why I’m stuck here. What he meant was interests, but why would you mix up those two words? It doesn’t make sense.. but I gave it to him. I’m sorry our interests don’t match. I’m sorry I love the arts more than science. I’ve been studying Biology since I learned how to read. So forgive me for wanting to separate my educational life and my interests. I find light from my interests, and when I see Science it becomes work, and my life isn’t about just work. It’s sad to me, because I knew you’re like this, and I tried to establish those types of conversation about what interests you, but I guess me trying wasn't enough.

At the end of the conversation I had asked him again, “Are you breaking up with me?” Still no answer... I eventually asked my friend to pick me up and take me home, because I was far from home. I packed my bags, and he had the audacity to ask me to be friends still... my answer,” I can’t be friends with you, because my friends don’t do me like this.” My friends respect me, my life choices, my interests, my love for everything, and love me for who I am. You broke me. You chose to love me, but I guess it was for naught. I had to hold my ground without exploding. I tried so hard to keep my composure, because at the end of it all I still love him, and that he doesn’t deserve to see my fury, a witch’s anger. before I walked out he asked one last for a hug... I denied him, because I knew if I hugged him I would of stayed and would have to stop being a witch.. to deny my witch bloodline for the rest of my life.

It’s been so long since I’ve written anything, and I’m glad I still have this platform to speak my truth. 

Dear friend I call Suffering, it’s been a long time hasn’t it? Depression and Anxiety told me you were gone, but I guess you were always there creeping on me. Now that you’re here I have questions for you..

Why can’t I be enough for anyone? Is it, because I’m not perfect? That I’m too far from being fixed? Is it the way I look? The way I smile? Or is it the way my love isn’t enough to please others’? I’m sure by now I am the product of trauma of a relationship, but why do I keep trying? Is it, because I was a victim of a pill and a man’s nonconsensual choices that lead up to this? That I’m just a body to be touched, and that my voice should stay silence? I’ve been conditioned to tell myself I’m just a body for someone to use, and is never worth loving. 

Maybe I have too many questions, and maybe I do understand what I’m saying may be wrong, but deep down I know I’m not worth to be loved. Like right now  he said no, because I can’t be in a “Polyamorous Relationship, or an Open Relationship”. Granted I respect people who chooses that lifestyle, but it isn’t for me, and I hope people respect that. 

From my experience with it I’ve been cheated on too much. How? No communication... a development of a new relationship behind my back, the lying is always constant, me receiving an STD as if it were some accomplishment, me being ghosted for months until I finally receive closure from them. Again, the trauma out of it all, I’m the product. So tell me why I should say Yes to Polyamory.. to Open Relationships.. Tell me how would this be good for my health? When this life choice has only gave me grief.

Behind the pool of honey

it isn’t sweet but agony

the soul that resembles of a peony

and the words of a poet, harmony.

I stare into those pools

and I felt the guidelines and the rules

we held hands, kissed even, like fools

drowning in those consoles

Our first with the stars

with all these parked cars

we went home and held my scars

then laid with you and took me to Mars.

That night or morning

you gave me a warning

but I was adorning

You walk pass me and you left me with all these unanswered questions. With the ashes of the sky brushing down to sunset we play these games if this is/was real. You feel like Summer at 7, why 7 you ask? That is also my question for you, but I may have an answer. When the sky falls down to an eclipsed light to change face with the moon... when does pillow talk occur? Do you prefer to kiss me in the dark fearing that when the light sheers right at us our lips separate? How do you do it? Pretending to not love someone, but your body asks to love me? My questions for you at Summer, especially, when Summer itself is slowly descending upon us. When you look at me with the deep pools of honey in your eyes why does it scream to me that you love me? Is it fear that we may not work or is it the possibility that you love someone else? 

7pm, how do you constantly make me feel so much for one person? Is it cause I worry when validation isn’t presence? All I need is for you to hold me, and not skip the moment out of fear. You know who I am, and I know who you are. I’m peaking at you through the pink pane colored windows. You’re beautiful. Allow me to love you even if it’s scary. 7pm or not, I’ll hold you and never let go. It’ll always be and forever be Summer at 7 with you.