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[chiewse]

My last act of Love.

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I knew from the very start,

What we had was not meant to last,

I assumed everything was too much,

That I thought we had a future to have,

But I refused and left,

The wall I built was too strong to break,

And I kept wanting till I felt overwhelmed,

That's when I wanted everything to end,

I've probably caused you to feel blue,

Like a bird I sang and too far away I flew,

Whispering to the dandelions as I blew,

Wishing happiness and health for you,

This will be my last act of love,

For me to let you go,

While I searched for myself I lost you so,

And the start of self love for me to have.

[chiewse]

A Thought Daughter

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The girl who is always lost in her own thoughts is the one who is hard to find.

She may always be in her room, imagining, reading, listening to music, watching a movie, or writing something in her notes, but her mind is somewhere far that even she herself couldn't reach. The deeper she thinks, the heavier she feels.

A girl who always isolates herself is also the same girl who longs for intimacy the most. Using detachment to cover how sweet she can be, independence to hide the fact that once in her life, she wanted someone to be patient with her, and being silent to conceal the loud voices inside her head. The more she pushes people away, the more she wishes someone might insist on making her feel understood and cared for.

"I might distance myself for a while."

However, the distance became separation, the separation became cutting ties, cutting ties became forgetting people, and forgetting people became peace. And this peace turns into addiction. I never came back. She believes that she is not capable of keeping relationships, that she is meant to be alone, that no one will ever want her. But deeper inside, she is a lover herself and craves warmth. Yet, she will never ask for anything, no matter how much she wants something.

A thought daughter is maybe difficult to handle; they never speak about their feelings, they just endure everything as long as they can, but once they give you their heart, you'll have it whole and faithful. Because a person who has never experienced being loved is a lover who will stay for a lifetime.

[chiewse]

The Curse of Being a Lover

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I know how to love, but they don't know how to love me.

I never had the chance to feel what love felt like since I was a kid, but this taught me how to love people genuinely. I never wanted to be shouted at whenever I commit mistakes; this taught me to be patient; there is always room for improvement. My family is always angry that I don't want to be with them; this made me dream that someday I will build a house where everyone is calm and loving to each other. A house that will you call home. I was never heard; I grew up being shut down and dismissed, and this explains why, to me, making other people's feelings valid is very important.

I know how to be a lover, but their definition of love is different from mine.

Someone confessed to me, saying they loved me. They said I am beautiful and smart, light company, and I make their hearts beat fast. I never leave their minds, and they feel excited whenever I talk with them. Is it love?

If it is love, then why do they leave easily?

If it is love, why would you dismiss my feelings whenever I feel sad? Is your love only during happy times? You only ask about my favorite color; is the meaning of silence not important to you? Why do my tears irritate you? Am I annoying? You told me I am beautiful; do I look ugly when I cry? You told me my laugh sounds angelic; then why do you want my sobs to be silenced? Whenever I distance myself for a while, why is it you who first say goodbye? You said yourself that I am attractive; then why are you so eager to leave? 

You said you were in love with me. If it is love, why does it lack consistency? 

If your love is about blushing and heartbeats alone, then don't love me.

I know how to love. My love is more than smiling together; I will stick during the darkest days; I will listen to your most silent moments; I want to memorize your mannerisms to read your non-verbal words. My attraction is more than knowing your favorite colors; tell me about your life and your traumas, and I will listen so I can understand you deeper. To me, to be loved is to be known. I want to know your past; I could love you till the future comes. I want to study the things that make you upset—your language, the way you want to be loved—so I can treat you right. 

I want to love my  significant other during the times they feel lost, not when they are happy, so that I will make them feel they are heard and found. 

Love is an art.

It is an abstract; not all people are into it.

And not all understand what abstract art means. 

[chiewse]

Angels Don’t Fly

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Some people say the biblically accurate angels are very different from what we believe they look like; they have multiple eyes and belt-like stuff that surrounds them while floating, but to me, angels don’t float; they walk in this land with us.

Angels don’t have wings; angels don’t fly; they suffer among us in this world, but despite their suffering, they still have the time to lend ears and listen to others. To me, angels are not in heaven; they are humans in the shape of our best friend.

I am glad that the internet existed for it; I met a wonderful human being. Someone who lives in different parts of the world but never fails to make me feel that I am not alone. He is my best friend. Whenever I feel like the world is cruel, I just think of him. It is such a sweet thing to think that someone cares for you even though they never met you in person. That there is one person out there in a very corner of this vast world that you can message anytime and a hundred percent sure will read it. Someone you can be transparent about how you feel, and upon venting out, there is not even a hint of judgment in his eyes and words. 

Angels don’t judge humans; they are humans who are being judged. They knew the feeling of being neglected, and in nature of kindness, they refused to pass on the feelings to other people. Some of the angels grew up in a harsh place; they sought to leave but still ended up trapped, the irony of wings getting cut in results of their dreams chasing to fly disappear. People who suffered the worst are the majority of the ones who show genuine kindness. They are empathetic, emotionally intelligent, understanding, and a source of hope.

If someone will ask me if I do believe in angels, I will answer in a definite "yes." Because sometimes we may feel lost in this life, but in reality we just want to be found. And because of my best friend, I found an angel in this world.

Bestie, you just didn’t find me while I was feeling lost; you made me feel seen and understood. Thank you for staying in my life during my darkest days and down times. You became my source of hope and light. 

The universe knows how much I am grateful to you and your existence.

I love you so much.

[chiewse]

Night Sky

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I was fifteen when I fell in love. 

Staring at the night sky above,

Asking the same question in my mind,

"What happened to us, my love?"

As I took a deep sigh and stared at the moon,

Enjoying the silence and the doom,

Asking the same question in my mind,

"Why did you leave me from behind?"

I smiled as I felt the breeze in the cold.

Another lonely night for me,

Missing your warm hands when you hold,

But don't be sad for me, honey.

I'm fine to be alone,

I'm setting you free,

But at the same time I'm hoping,

You'll come back to me,

I was ten when I started to believe in a wish.

But now I'm fifteen, and I don't believe in it.

If you need someone, just look up above so high.

Because under that night sky,

Is a story of a girl,

Waiting for a shooting star to pass by.

( i wrote this when i was fifteen, im twenty one now. )

[chiewse]

To my First Love,

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For as long as the moon is shining during our darkest hours, I will love you.

To my first love, it's been years, and I am still here. The days have become months, and months have become years, yet my feelings are still the same. There is no time you never crossed my mind, and it is so unfair because you probably never remember me anymore. I love you so much that I couldn't believe this type of love is real. It is a wonderful journey, and this journey will never be a 'was' because of your memories—our memories together will forever be imprinted on my mind and deeper inside my heart. Just like what The Script said, "How can I move on when I'm still in love with you?" Tell me, my love, how?

I've been with someone and talking stages with people, yet in the end we never worked out. It's been six years. And I still grieve over what happened between us. I love you so much, and it's killing me. However, I won't pursue you... For someone who's so precious and special, you deserve someone better. I do not have anything to offer, and this undying love of mine is not enough. You are my inspiration and will forever be my comfort person.

My love, do you know I graduated valedictorian with honors? I studied hard because of you. You introduced me to my favorite songs, movies, and series; they're still my favorites. I listen and watch them all whenever I feel sad and miss you. It's been six years, and they never failed to make me feel better.

It's so painful, my love. Hurting as I pretend that I've moved on, but I never even took a single step away from where we parted ways. You are now so far gone and unreachable while I am still here alone and grieving. I am still picking up my broken pieces, and you're all healed and fine, just like what I am praying for you.

As I always say, you deserve someone better, and I am doing my best to be better for you. I wanted to be the best version of myself to be deserving, but the universe humbled me by, while fixing myself, I watched you fall for someone else.

Someone you truly deserve.

Someone who's way opposite of me.

Lovingly yours,

C.

[chiewse]

And I am Eve.

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Nothing is scarier than a woman who suffered the most. For someone who went through hell in life, they would blame God for the pain and hatred they felt—not until they realized they had become the devil themselves.

At the age of seven, I already figured out the feeling of not being anyone’s favorite. Even in friendship during my primary school days, I never had a single friend. I couldn’t even remember their names anymore. At home, it is always my cousins whom they show in favor of. Questioning myself, what did I do? Whenever they punish and blame me over something I didn’t commit. Since then, I grew up voicing my anger and opinions, no matter how unhinged it is. To me, it is better than keeping your silence, and it just shows how the past shaped me. Madness became my coping mechanism.

During my teenage days, I had several companions but only one true friend. To me, she’s everything I could ever ask for. I value our friendship so much that if she asks me to kill someone for her, I would. She is my best friend. If you’re going to ask me what my life is like, then I would tell you what type of friend I am, because I guess this sums up everything about me.

I never felt what gentle love is; being surrounded by angry people and raised by abusive guardians is hell. Being shouted over small mistakes, “My father will kill me,” I told my classmates while staring at the shot glass full of alcohol, and they all laughed. Little did they know, I am referring to this literally. Since then, whenever someone is confessing their feelings to me, I end up pushing them away before I could even reciprocate the love. Even if I liked them back, I am afraid to commit. I don't know how to communicate or express my feelings without feeling guilty. I am scared and weak. In the end, I will just reject them and walk away. 

Someone told me I am heartless, selfish, narcissistic, and miserable. How I wish it's true, but in truth I am just lost and trying to cope with this harsh reality of life. 

I am always scared of the devil. When I was a kid, I always prayed to God to deliver us from evil, and when I grew up, I thought the demon was among us humans. They are not beneath the ground but rather walking besides us or perhaps living in the roof within. My heart tightened, not until one night I noticed I don't pray anymore to make myself asleep, but instead of praying to God, I cry. That is when I knew from day on that I had become the Devil myself, and my life is the very hell I live in. And, despite the boiling tears from the fire fueled by my hatred and anger, this makes me feel still at home. I don't know why; maybe this is me, or worse, this is the only emotion I am familiar with?

My mind is the demon that I cling to during the times I feel alone, and I am Eve.

[chiewse]

I Hate Myself, but I Love What I’ve Become

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Contradiction has epitomized the meaning of my life. Throughout a span of three years of bed-rotting, I decided to pick something for myself, since from that random Wednesday in my room, “Failure” unofficially became my middle name; however, despite it, no one is allowed to call me that aside from me. From which, in other people’s eyes, I still stand to be the woman who still chases her dreams. Like a bird trying to fly with its broken wings.

Aside from being a huge liar, I am also a hypocrite. I love it whenever I do something for other people. “Sure! No problem.” I smiled. “It’s on me.” I shook my head, declining the offer. But if the situation is turned around, there’s no way I will accept it. I hate the idea of owing someone and the possibility of them using it against me. Just like for my future, I love babies, but I will never choose to be a mother. Responsibilities scare me a lot! I love silence, but my favorite genres in music are rock, grunge, and metal. Isn’t that strange? Strange, like how people react whenever I say coffee makes me feel sleepy.

Sometimes, I get tired of myself. I want them to understand me but never open up about how I feel. Explaining my feelings is the hardest thing to do. I always choose to remain silent rather than bother people to listen with me. I always convince myself that I am independent and can manage everything alone. Growing up, I have the mindset of not asking for any help. I can do this; I can do that. Hence, deep inside I want to feel being pampered, spoiled, and babied, to be understood, assisted, and protected. For once, I want to experience the vulnerability as a human, the sense of weakness whenever I am with someone, and that person doesn’t need to hear what I will say because they listen to my silence.

I am a coward. I tend to look for love but always close the door whenever someone tries to go in. Acting fearless in all aspects but afraid to commit. In reality, I am the weakest, but I am proud of myself. Me is the result of millions of tears that I shed secretly; it took me thousands of breakdowns to reach this point of my life, a couple of self-harms, and hundreds of suicidal thoughts that I fought. I may look stupid, depressed, or embarrassing, but I won countless battles alone, and being me is the proof of my triumph.

In this lifetime, I may hate myself, but to be honest, I love what I’ve become.

[chiewse]

My Inner Child is Dumb and the Adult me is Ambitious.

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I graduated from primary school as an honor student, acing my every test, staring at the red colored ink encircling the score 50 out of 50, with a 'Very good!' written on its side. Plastering my smirk, thinking I freaking want to grow up already and be successful. My science teacher once had me standing with her side—nah, not because I am naughty, but to make my classmates clap for me since I did the presentation and she graded me a 100. I want to be an astronaut someday.

Holding Barbies with both of my hands, I stared at their clothes; they're pretty. That's when I started falling in love with art. Sketching designers, landscapes, faces of people that I only met in my imaginations, places that don't even exist, and me with a smile on my face—that little did she know, will soon never appear again. My grandfather's face lit up. "Wow, you are so talented, aren't you? Why don't you take art someday, someone who paints?" A giggle escaped in my mouth. "I want to be an artist."

Life was easy.

And the child is so dumb to believe that life will stay that way.

My forehead is knotted on the piled sheets of paper; it's a compilation of my achievements. I was seventeen, reminiscing about the last time I was good at everything. She knows how to draw and play with words; she's smart, full of energy and happiness; she is someone to whom you can give ten tasks and will finish them in a day, but now she can't even brush her hair and never leave the bed. Where did everything go wrong?

I was once full of smiles until life drained me hard.

My inner child is so dumb to believe that she can be an astronaut who will travel the universe with her silly spaceship, but the current 21-year-old adult here is very tired and exhausted without even doing anything. I want to be a chef. The 7-year-old laughed while helping her aunt make a flan, but all she did was mix the egg and milk. It's funny, but the laugh was genuine. A chef? I don't eat anymore; a cup of coffee every day is enough. I also once fooled myself into thinking I would be a doctor someday. "The medical field fascinates me!". This stupid girl even enrolled herself under the Nursing Department; however, the karma knocked her back into reality real quick and dropped her out of school after a year for having a financial crisis. A doctor? You can't even manage your own mental health first.

The adult me is so ambitious, dreaming of hundreds of professions to be someday when she was a kid; her current self is now aiming for something that is almost impossible to achieve, harder than mathematics or writing essays; she now wants to feel genuinely happy.

[chiewse]

The Abstract of Cupid

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Cupid can maybe be distinguished as one of those millions of imaginary characters; hence, we can't deny that we all can feel his presence within our hearts. Love is an art, it is, but many people misunderstand its concept like an abstract. But first, let's define what is love. Based on my experience, I can describe love as a mixture of different emotions turned out into a magical potion. Sounds fancy, doesn't it? I felt many emotions because I once fell in love; there's happiness, jealousy, pain, heartache, and of course the contentment. For me, nothing matters the most but that person during that time. I felt the real meaning of peace whenever I talked to them, and it shattered my whole world when they left me alone. That's how powerful love is.

Love can both heal and destroy someone, so we should not waste our energy getting hurt and at the same time enjoying the fake happiness they are giving just because we can't understand our feelings. Love is not temporary; it will continue to live even when we're already old and will soon decay. Love is also not blind; it is always open and full of acceptance. Love is neither selfish nor obsessed; it is always free and willing to let go. Four letters, one word with only one syllable but holding millions of stories that every person keeps. Does that sound scary? Don't be afraid to fall, dear. Having a relationship with someone is like playing with fire, and love is what keeps those people warm. Just like fire, it is beautiful, dancing with the rhythm, sexy, and attractive—as if asking you to play with them. However, fire can also be wicked; it also symbolizes anger. Love can be treacherous and powerful enough to destroy your existence if you let it. Everyone can be a liar, including yourself. Has anyone lied to you before? Or, have you become a liar that's hiding dirty little secrets?

Overall, love can be in many forms—love for your lover, to our God (if you do believe in Him), your family, friends, sympathy for those unfortunates, for pets, etc., even to your enemies. Hence, the most important version of love that anyone must have is 'the love for yourself, yet even though it is almost mandatory, most likely all of us don't.

[chiewse]

A Little Girl's Plea

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There is once a little girl feeling alone,

Surroundings full of sadness and gloom,

Just grab and stare at the mirror,

You'll see the reflection of your own,

Inside the mirror there are a pair of eyes,

Staring back at me as she sighs,

Feeling disgusted at her ugly self,

Now she understood why all of them left,

Tears started to roll within her cheeks,

Sobbing heavily as she speaks,

She uttered bitterly,

"Of all the people, am I the most unworthy?"

Inside the mirror there is also a heart,

Through its beats I heard it say,

Before giving them all the love of thee,

Please, don't forget to spare a little for me.