I’m a heavy ball of yarn: unravel me and you’ll find nothing special, just

The potential to make something beautiful out of me.


The way you stay.

Why am I still hung up on the past? Most days I force myself into the present, but sometimes, I find myself slipping away, away into the distance, retracing footsteps, looking back at memories of you with a hunger that aches, a longing unfulfilled, a possibility unrealised. The simplest of things are triggers – listening the song I told you was my favourite, drinking the tea you introduced me to, walking in a breeze that carries with it the sound of tired engines and flickering traffic lights just as we had done once. You are just a ghost now, that’s what people tell me, but that’s the problem, don’t you see? You may not be here anymore, but your presence still haunts me, still catches me when I least expect it to. People come and go, but ghosts stay by your side, following you the way unwanted shadows do.

Don’t you get it? Even when you’re gone, you’re not. I want to move on, but I’m only moving forward still clasping onto these memories of you as though they are my last heartbeats. It’s embarrassing to admit all this… I mean, how could so short a time with you leave such a deep impression?

I read a story once. The girl in that story realised that moving on is not forgetting, it’s being able to remember without feeling any pain. The thing is, I don’t feel pain but I feel something. A tight smile, foggy eyes. Something slight, rarely noticed but always felt. Maybe all this is because I’m “sensitive”, maybe my emotions are fragile like wet clay and any kind of weight imprints an everlasting mark upon them. But maybe it’s because you actually meant a lot, and I never had the courage to tell you that. Somehow I let you go without ever letting you go.

Letter of longing

Inspired by a film

From Five Centimeters Per Second

*** *** ***

i’m smiling out of fear and laughing out of tears and painting out of longing that your warmth will melt my sadness away.

on the outside i am cold. and distant. i want to turn back but i’m walking away. my footsteps do not feel like mine. my heartbeat does not feel right without yours.

i have these moments of clarity when it dawns on me that this is not love, this is yearning for a love that was never returned and that never existed.

but i am an artist and i dream in the clouds. i live to imagine and imagination brews fantasies, not realities.

does love happen from coincidence? is it sparked by friendship, by having so much in common that a deep innate flame is lit? i don’t know but i want to know. and i want to find it out with you and only you.

i know that happily ever afters do not exist in real life. Forevers come and go. we are temporary and there is nothing we can breathe in but the scent of fleeting moments whizzing past, long gone before we can fully grasp the meaning and significance of it. but my yearning for you is permanent and will not fade away.

and i’m hoping and hoping and searching and holding onto the last speck of light i own.

even as i am walking away, it hits me that i really haven’t moved a single step. i am stuck in this infinity of longing for you.

You still don’t know.

You never knew. And you still don’t know.

There were those times when angry words erupted into screams and you thought that everything you ever said went unheard – but I was standing by you the entire time and I heard you. There were those times when you told me secrets in the dark and woke up with regrets of having ever opened your lips because you thought that the light would force me to see you differently – but it only allowed me to see you more clearly as that flawed yet uniquely beautiful person I always knew you to be.

You break your promises over and over again, but I still forgive you. You tell me to go away, but I’m still lingering on the other side of your door. You cry too many tears and you think that you’re the only one who’s hurting, but I’m still hurting from your tears. You blunder through life like a car that’s being driven drunk, but I’m still chasing after you.

You tell me not to worry. You tell me that you’re fine on your own. You tell me that I don’t have to say it all again, that you already know.

But you still don’t know. You may never know that everything I do for you, I do it out of love.

Cracks and broken tears

Many things in her life are uncertain, but she knows one thing for sure: she will never let anyone see her break.

She will never let anyone see her tears.

That is her unspoken promise.

For a while, she’s very good at keeping that promise. All she has to do is close her eyes and close her heart.

And then, he comes along.

He doesn’t try to break down her walls; he scales them instead. He is a terrible climber but that doesn’t stop him from trying over and over again, until one day, he reaches the top and falls to the other side with bloodied nails, scraped arms and a worn, rugged smile.

He doesn’t try to change her; he inspires her instead. He inspires her to accept every version of herself, even the versions she aren’t so proud of.

Little does she know that she inspires him too; that while he gives her purpose to accept and embrace, she is giving him purpose to live and love.

It’s true that what they have may not last forever – she bears witness to the death of beautiful things everyday, and knows that flowers will wither, sunsets will fade to darkness, and candle flames will eventually ebb to molten wax.

Yet she also comes to realise that perhaps what makes these things so beautiful is the fact that they won’t last forever, but the impression they leave upon us will.

Many things in her life still remain uncertain, but she now knows one thing for sure: love is beautiful.

And with that knowledge, she turns to him with broken tears in her eyes, only to see him watching her with the same worn, rugged smile as the one she saw tugging at his lips when he fell down from the wall.

Except, this time, she is falling as well.

This time, when she breaks, she is breaking into shards of happiness. This time, when she closes her eyes, her heart remains open, and all she sees is the light of a new promise emerging from the rubble of a broken one.

Lightning and stars

Sometimes I wonder, if we did not know that lightning was dangerous, would we simply see it as beautiful and breathtaking and awe-inspiring? Would we watch with wide, smiling eyes as the sky momentarily lights up? Or would we still prefer the safer alternative – the sea of stars dotted across the sky, or perhaps the full moon beaming down onto the surface of that giant puddle you spot through your window?

Friendship and family are like the stars – safe and constant. But true love is like the lightning – beautiful but dangerous, like a rollercoaster tittering on the peak of the highest slope, threatening to send you spiralling down to rock-bottom, yet at the same time, offering you an unpredictable ride that is guaranteed to leave you breathless; that is guaranteed to send your hair whipping about in frenzy, your arms pulling back in joy and your heart dancing erratically in ecstasy. True love is something that will never grow old or stale, because it will amplify the life within you and open your eyes for the very first time.

A lot of people become scared of the lightning, so they draw up their curtains and hide from the true love that is staring them in the face. They think that taking the chance won’t be worth it because they only think of the possibility of a shattered heart and forget to consider the other side of the coin – the possibility that they will experience something extraordinary, something rare, something totally spontaneous, and something completely out-of-the-world. True love is about taking a chance, and trusting yourself enough to step out of your comfort zone. It’s about being brave enough to open your eyes to the beauty of something explosive and potentially dangerous.

So draw back the curtains. Don’t be afraid to appreciate the brief flashes of the sky. Don’t be afraid of true love, because you can’t let fear stop you from living your life the way it deserves to be lived – to the utmost fullest. There is not a moment to waste, not a flash of lightning to miss.