six: left

he walked away that night as if nothing, no one - meant to him anymore, as if nothing else mattered to him.

it was as if our time spent together meant nothing; and the kisses and pecks he gave me on my forehead were just a single touch he felt like he had to give; and the times we said we loved each other were lies.
don't you remember?

don't you remember the times we spent laughing our hearts out, splashing water at each other at the old lake you used to take me to - the same lake my mother warned me to not go - the lake that was filled with memories of us?
don't you remember the times we were laughing so heartily that we didn't notice our ice creams falling off the cones because we were fooling around so hard; or when we pulled funny faces at someone's child and ran when she cried; when we didn't even remember what sadness felt like?

don't you dare walk out of my life like that, when i was expecting you to stay. don't you dare walk out like that, taking my heart along with you at every inch. don't you dare treat all of our memories as a dream.

don't you dare walk out from my life as if you didn't love me from the start.

perhaps my mother was right all along - she warned me about the boy who lived across - that little boy whom she watched growing up - the boy who became a man who went around leaving scars, carrying jar of hearts and tearing love apart. she told me that you were a threat in love and i shall never fall in love with you.

but i did.

and you were the first.

five: that winter, that night

" I'll pull the stars down from the heavens to fill your empty skies."

you slid your fingers and intertwined them with mine, breathing with some anticipation and your breath was cold and warm at the same time. it was winter; i remember. i eased my weight on the car door and we were wearing boots and thick sweaters. we breathed slowly at every second. my boots were finding its way onto the cold white snow at the bottom of our foot. it was cold - very cold - and the only warmth i could find were in your hands. i smiled; because i was glad to find comfort in the simplest of things; just like how i always do.

you looked at me right in the eyes, your pupils looking so warm and dilating as your face came closer to mine. i told you if i stared at you long enough i could melt in your eyes. your eyes makes me feel warm and slushy - and i hate to admit that. you looked at me so intensely and you told me you loved me. i brushed it off sheepishly.

you pulled me back and told me you loved me again. i didn't like that, i really didn't like how you said that. i smiled and walked away again, but you held me back and told me you really do. you told me that if you had to tell me you love me for million times you would - and if you could hug me you would hold me in your arms forever.

i told you that forever doesn't exist and i love yous are just words people tell each other all the time even if they don't mean it. you tell me you do but i have heard that so many times. people telling that to each other all the time, but hardly anyone means it.

when i was younger i used to think that people only say i love yous when they mean it, but i grew up learning that they only do just for the sake of it. if people didn't mean what they say; then i rather not hear anything.

i wish i could tell you that i loved you too but i'm sorry i don't think i can trust you enough to tell you what i feel. i wish i could believe that you felt the same way for me; i really wished i could. but i'd never forget the day my father left. i don't think i can forget the way all of us cried that night begging him to stay when he was leaving. i don't think i can forget how he walked away as if nothing and no one meant to him anymore. it was as if no one, and nothing meant to him.
i learnt that love is just a one-time feeling and not "forever", like what others always say.

i wish i could tell you i loved you too; to the moon and back; and that if i had a star each time i think of you, we could take a lighted path to the end of the earth. and if i had a flower each time i thought of you, i could plant a garden.

i love you - but its not enough. you tell me you love me but it sounds otherwise. i don't know how long it will take for me to say i love you back but i wish i could have the strength to say it. but no - its not enough - at least not yet.

and when that time comes when i'm ready to tell you that i love you too,

i hope you'd still be waiting.

four: one day

one day you're going to meet a boy. he would turn your life upside down and raid your insides out. he will make your heart flutter and the butterflies in your stomach fly. he would leave you breathless and crying at 2am in the morning and leave you hanging. he would call to say he loves you at 3 and at 4 you fight. at 5 you would wish everything was back to fantasies and delusions; and at 6 you wish he would care.
this boy, he would make you feel as if you're on cloud nine and yet at the same time he would hurt you like no other. you want to keep him in your life but you wish you could kick him out. it is a contradiction. you love him; you love him not.

perhaps you haven't met that boy yet; perhaps you already did.

but don't fall too quickly, that's all i can say. don't let your heart come first, and don't be the first to fall. don't be too quick to judge and don't give in easily. ease your walls but don't let down your guard.


you never want to be the first who fall; because the first who falls, always get hurt first.

three: lullabies // lang leav

"I barely know you, she says, voice heavy with sleep. I don’t know your favourite color or how you like your coffee. What keeps you up at night or the lullabies that sing you to sleep. I don’t know a thing about the first girl you loved, why you stopped loving her or why you still do.
I don’t know how many millions of cells you are made of and if they have any idea they are part of something so beautiful and unimaginably perfect.
I may not have a clue about any of these things, but this—she places her hand on his chest—this I know.”

—from Lullabies by Lang Leav

two: too young to love?

they say children are too young to know, and that four's an age when you should be playing hide-and-seek rather than learn how to love;

but little do they know that love, isn't only for them to know.

one: I don't know where to begin

on some nights i would prefer resting my bones on a chair so light that could possibly break when a weight is on it; at the balcony under a dark sky where the galaxies lie, and where the different constellations make up in the sky; rather than seeking solace in something more comfortable like my bed. on some nights i would rather shove those earpieces in and listen to classical - a kind of genre that evokes the deepest of one's mind and the ends of one heartstrings - a kind of sound which makes you excited yet sleepy at the same time - a kind of music which makes your heart beat in a different way you've never felt before and the kind that would make your mind drift even to the furthest ends of the world. i'd rather listen to slow songs - the kind that would evoke feelings; rather than the obstreperous kind of sound that would irritate your tendrils and vex the mind. i'd rather be calm; just like the way the wind pushes the waves to move, or the peace you feel when you stroll along the beach at the end of a long day. i'd rather be calm; for i know that peace do not come by easily; and that peace can only be found in oneself. to find peace, is to be at peace at yourself. i like quietness, yet i hate silence. silence is exactly like the kind of pain that would prick - the pain you feel when a cold wind blows across every skin tissue of your body; the pain you could feel immediately; the pain that could wake you up because it hurts but the kind of pain you might get addicted to. these are the vicious kind of pain - the kind of pain you'd never want to feel even if its the tiniest of all, and the kind of pain you'd want to feel over and over again because it takes something away. something away? i'm not quite sure of what either, but the kind that you might find solace in; the kind you'd feel comfortable in, even if it pricks the innermost of your cells. 

as i lay there with the calmness seeking in the background and drowning my soul in music that could bring my soul to life, i wonder how you're doing. i close my eyes - and even though the calmness is taking over my mind, my heart still jumps whenever the cold wind blows across and as i lay there in the wee hours of morning alone. my mind tells me i'm in a place i'm uncomfortable in; the kind of place my mind would be afraid of. but at the end of the day what i am afraid of is just the darkness. i know it - because I've always been afraid of the dark; the kind of demon that blankets over the light and the one that steals hope within all hearts. Darkness is scary, i told myself at every breath, but my heart refuses to leave. and with every breath i took, my heart races a little bit faster and adrenaline is starting to take over my body. i refuse to compromise, i refuse to believe that I'm afraid of darkness. Darkness is associated with demons, and the night is dangerous, i tell myself. No, the other voice says, darkness is beautiful (you can only find peace within me). that's also true, i tell myself. now my mind is teeming with little battles: to leave the place my mind finds dangerous in, or to stay in the same place my heart is seeking peace in. i've to make a choice, but i take the seconds off the ticking clock as if they would stop for me. 

i knew i had to make a quick decision; for my mind was unable to settle itself into place and it couldn't come into terms with me getting over my fear for darkness. darkness is twice as beautiful, as my thought tries to reassure my mind but i eventually gave in to the demons in my head that insists to tell me otherwise. 

"leave", my instincts tell me. and  i hesitated - the kind of hesitation you make between two choices you equally love and are dear for; the kind of hesitation you give when you've to choose between giving up someone or something; or when you have to decide to give up someone who makes you happy or believe he could always find someone better. i choose to listen to the voices in my head that tells me to stop, to stop doing what my mind is afraid of. i listened; and i left.

today I'm sorry for not calling your name out in the dark and listened to your every movements as the stars jump across the constellations, or the way the stars line up in the sky. I'm sorry i couldn't hear you - for the nerve impulses in my brain were sending me enough adrenaline that made my blood cells in the vessels rush for time. I'm sorry i couldn't watch over you - just like how i believe you always are; even in the deepest ends of the world who god knows where it is; and at the back of my heart where i still know you belong. 

xx, my first