#inkstainedexcerpts

Hi Chucky. I hope you're in a piggy heaven with lots of hay, and all your favourite foods. I hope there you can run around as much as you want, soak in the sun like you loved, and fill the place with as much happiness as you did in my heart and home.

behind closed doors were secrets left unexplored.

“How are you? Really?” My friend’s question rang in my ears. People close to me know that I never really share my problems on my own, and that my way of dealing with issues is shoving them as far as possible at the back of my mind. So when my friend specifically asked me if anything was indeed wrong, for once, I was actually at a loss for words. It might be because it’s been such a long time since I’ve felt this way, but it finally dawned on me that I was, truly, happy. I was content with life at that precise moment. I was happy to be surrounded by people I loved, and in return who loved me back. I was happy I was finally trying to be better, something I hadn’t done in a while. I still had my demons, but they didn’t feel like a weight bearing me down. Maybe everything was not perfect, but I could swear I was happy, so happy. And truthfully, after all this time, it felt nice to know that I wasn’t completely lost yet. “I’m good, really good. Honestly.” “I’m happy for you.” He smiled.

..and after all this time, I tell everyone that I’m happy. It isn’t a lie, I promise you, I am happy. But being happy doesn’t mean that sometimes I don’t relapse. Some days, I can’t tell white from black because the self doubt eats at me. Some times, I get lonely, and I convince myself that I can’t ever exactly ‘fit in’. Some nights, I do wish I had someone to hold me, and convince me that I’m okay, and if I am not, I will be. Some days, I just need a reminder that I am not what I am going through; I am not the sum of my broken parts; and that I am much more than what I make myself out to be.

I want to believe that in another world- a parallel universe- we would have worked out. That in another universe, I’d be wearing your hoodie and you’d be my muse. That in another universe, you’d be looking over my shoulder as my favourite pen scribbled another badly written poem about you. I’d like to believe, that in another universe, you’d be laughing at it. Yes, I’d like to believe that we would have worked out- in a world where I’d be less broken and you’d be more willing to try.

And weeks later, when the tides of the ocean have turned and the moon has changed its phases, when the flowers that withered away start to bloom again, and the snow fades away, when i'll look at the world with a different perspective, i'll remember you. I'll remember your beautiful black curls and your shit eating grin, your hands that wove magic on my skin and lips that conveyed stories. I'll remember you, the twinkle in your eyes, the pep in your walk, and that mesmerising smile that convinced me that I could be okay again.