toptenthingsihateabouteverything

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

mourning

Mourning someone is something we all have to do as humans, as living beings. However, what do we consider to be dead, when does this mourning start. I’m not talking dead bodies and other real indications of death at least nothing of the gruesome sort. I’m talking the death of a personality or a friendship. How does one timestamp the death of a relationship, how does one even know. You can ponder, overthink the pondering and fall into a deep state of insomnia from overthinking yet still never truly figure out where it really went wrong. Which leads to the death of actual physical brain cells; deteriorating from the overuse of all complicated situations. I guess one can never tell whether a relationship is going to end, shrivel up and die. But then how are you supposed to mourn this said relationship.

Mourning is a stage of sadness displayed in the five stages of grief, otherwise known as the five steps to fully garnering peace. Supposedly, you cannot move on from a death unless you’ve breached all five stages. That’s possibly true. I think closure should be the sixth stage of grief, because even though I’ve mourned my past relationships and even some of my present ones, they have never provided me with enough closure to move on. There still are those emotionless glances that I notice every now and then. I still notice them. There’s no specific person I’m talking about, this is generally speaking about all my past relations, especially those that I hurt the most in. It’s funny how the most memorable emotions and moments in time are ones that are linked to mourning. They’re the most vivid ones at least. I remember, one day in September last year, where I completely broke down walking home from school over a friendship which at the time, I thought I completely fucked up. I was crying so much that I physically couldn’t walk. I called my grandma to find some sort of comfort, yet all I was reminded of was how much I missed her. Afterwards I called my mother, who told me that everything was going to be fine and told me to continue walking home and then shortly after go to tuition, continuing my day like nothing happened. When crying then, I had realised that this friendship I had, was dead. And there was nothing to do to fix it. Seeing as I struggled to walk, I went to the nearest place I could find comfort from; the forest. That’s when the true floodgates to hell opened up and let everything loose from inside. That’s what mourning does to a person, it makes them live the death over and over again; a motif recurring in the mind. What’s even worse is hiding this, trying to act like everything is ok, even when a part of you is dying.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

being forgiving

long story short, i lied. i cant stop thinking about you again. i know im not supposed to but i dont know. you probably dont care about me anymore and you probably dont think about me at all. i loved you and part of me still loves you. i think that part of me will forever love you. what i also think is that you’re generally miserable since we parted. i think that your life has gone downhill from that point. from looking at old pictures of you, there is a difference in how you look now. not just physically, but just feature wise. you lost your glowing smile and your skin seems duller nowadays. your eyes dont gleam from happiness as much and its kinda like as if your mental state impacted your physical state with your broken arms. i think your struggling with who you are and what you want to be. i think that once you see me at school you will feel something again, and you will hate it. you will feel guilt and regret as you search for your past happiness. i think you’ll fall in love all over again with this new and improved version of me. and boy will you want to kill yourself because of it.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

home

home. a place which many find comfort in. the sigh of relief which escapes most peoples’ lips when the thought of going home crosses their mind. the small packed selection of clothes becoming a form of torture when creating outfits; hangers and a wardrobe becoming a distant memory. the longing for the true comfort of ones home. i however, do not miss my home at all. dont get me wrong, i designed my room to be my own personalised safe haven. yet those four walls which contain physical aspects which resemble those that reside in my mind, have one flaw; that room isn’t the real world. my house is a house within the many houses in my area. this house is located within a mile of my school, where enough trauma happened already.  so let me explain my dilemma to you. in poland, at my grandma’s house in małopolska, i am approximately 2000miles away from my house, which in retrospect, i am 2000miles away from my problems. that type of distance can allow a person to not only think about oneself and reflect upon any issue they desire, but it also allows a person to detach from their problems that they left in their faraway home. so with that being said, why the fuck are you still slivering through the cracks into my fucking life only to disturb my peace and wellbeing. when i fucking cut you off and blocked you on everything and ignored you and blocked your friend and unfollowed any of your friends that may cause me to backtrack, it could possibly symbolise me wanting nothing to fucking do with you. not only was your fucking apology halfassed as fuck, NO ONE CHANGES THEIR MORALS AND THEIR BELIEFS WITHIN A SHITTY MONTH. especially after you were fucking HARASSING me for three months with homophobic, xenophobic, sexist, generally sensitive and offensive “jokes”, EVEN when i told you to stop and be nicer or to stop being a fucking dick. you also proceeded to be an a-class dickhead to people i care about. PEOPLE DON’T DO FULL FUCKING 180s IN ONE FUCKING MONTH YOU PIECE OF SHIT. so my question is, what is your motive? what are you planning to do with everything that you’ve been doing these past months? there’s gotta be something because this is some psychopath level shit. are you like fucking obsessed with me or some shit? is this like leading up to you confessing something? why are you randomly apologises in the middle of summer about shit that you are definitely not sorry about? are you ticking people off some list, to get some stupid guilt off your chest? well im sure as fuck not accepting any apology from you because im not giving you any satisfaction of me being just ok with everything that you’ve said and done. i know it hurts you. i know it’s drilling a hole inside your head and eating you alive. i know your thinking about it every day, night, moment where you are left alone with your thoughts. and it will continue hurting and i hope it continues hurting. i wished happiness for you a few days ago. now i hope you feel that pain, i hope you choke on your own tears as you feel the pain becoming so intense that sadness begins pouring out onto your physical attributes. i hope your desperation eats your brain alive. you’re desperate for a relief, a bit of breathing air where you can feel no chokehold of pain. i know this feeling all too well. and i wish you luck trying to get rid of it because i will only make it harder for you. don’t you worry. you want me in your life so badly? ok sure. i will be there every time you feel something remotely happy, as a reminder. i will be the walking talking reminder of what happiness used to be, simply a distant memory. you will regret making my home something i don’t want to go back to. welcome to the end, f.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

new problems

hi. hello.

those are the first words we hear as we enter this world. as we see someone we know. as we start something new. and i feel like i’ve said hello to a new place in my life. i haven’t properly cried since the end of march and i’ve truly actually been happy. though, am i still in love with you? yes. i mean, it’s not a problem anymore, or something that i non-stop think about. it’s something that i’ve accepted and now am starting to move away from. you treat me like absolute shit, and you can’t tell me otherwise. you give me half assed responses, you’re mean to me on the daily, you never consider anything i said to you before. even so, i don’t hate you. i don’t think i could ever hate you. however, i don’t respect you, i don’t like you as a person and most of all i hate myself for thinking you were good enough for me. i have my own issues, i get that, and i know i made mistakes in the past, but you’re simply linking me to those mistakes and not letting me grow from them. i am now realising that the person im talking to is simply one i made in my head that i attached to you. idk what to say icl. but just, stop being a dickhead.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

toxic situations

ok so i think its time to leave. like i said in the beginning, in the frustrating monologue i presented to you on that rainy wednesday, im willing to let you go. and thats what im doing now, if not for you then for me. i cant keep trying to get something that would only turn out to be completely one sided. im not giving up, never. im simply putting this aside to concentrate on happier things in life. you used to make me happy. used to. i cant keep trying to revitalise the past, it gets exhausting, even when i achieve the feeling ive been longing to get. i simply cannot be dealing with a child, nor do i deserve to deal with one. ive apologised for my actions and im not going to keep apologising for things i did in the past which are irreversible. ive dealt with those things and those situations and moved on, if you havent and still need something to makes us “even”, then thats why im leaving. im not saying goodbye, im saying your not the person i need right now. right now we’re not on the same level, and i need people that are. i have amazing friends that actually treat me with respect and are nice to me, and if i see that simple measures are not reached in a relationship, then i end it. and currently i have to some extent convinced myself that i dont love you, because you dont deserve my love nor my attention. maybe one day when you’ve grown up, emotionally, we can rekindle our friendship, but for now, im doing just fine without you being around.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

letting go

letting go. fasting. giving up. all these phrases have many things in common; putting aside an action for oneself to be a better person. but are we willing to put aside what needs to be, or what we deem to be? we, as humans, have the gift of judgement, a freewill that allows us to make choices in everyday life, good and bad. it’s what builds us and shapes us into the people we’re meant to be. although we have this ability, we seem to lack the sense of judgement when it comes to deciding what is good and bad in our lives, and what needs to be let go. the concepts of letting go, giving up, are hard to comprehend, especially in modern societies where giving up is a sign of weakness, letting go a sign of insecurity. yet if one puts that all aside and thinks about themselves, it really all comes down to whether the effort is worth it. for you see, cutting off a living wart is a painful and long process, but when you cut it just right it won’t grow back. one thing a person is very conscious of is what causes them pain, and sometimes these warts are less painful on them then being ripped off. collectively as a race, we don’t want to feel pain. pain is something we avoid. we take painkillers for physical pain, we kill ourselves for mental pain. we want to get rid of the pain at any cost. so if we know the radical solutions to toxic relationships that bring us pain, then why can’t i get over you. most of the time spent thinking about you is generally sad; dwelling on the what ifs and what could’ve been done differently. if i know it hurts, why do i keep running back to it? why do i keep treating that area of my mind like a safe haven? how do i keep convincing myself that you’re the same, just covered in ego? why do i keep causing myself more pain? i thought that once i told you my feelings and got rejected i could finally move on, yet somehow these feelings have become that much more real. it’s like as if i got the glasses that allow me to see the full picture. even if you don’t talk to me, block me, avoid me, you’re still on my mind. i want to get rid of you, but you still somehow linger. you’re that one scent i cannot remove from my clothing, i’m sick of it even though i keep sniffing it. you’re still there, something is still there, even if i can’t fully put my finger on it. everyday i’m tempted to drop everything and give up on you, but then i’m reminded that that’s exactly what you did, and so that’s something i cannot do. i can’t and won’t just give up, let go, fast myself of my efforts. especially when i know for a fact that there’s something, deep below, hidden. and so if this something is hidden, it can be found. and that is why i won’t give up. not because it’s the weak thing to do; escaping the fact instead of standing up straight to it. it’s the sore fact that you do care about me, even when you don’t want to. it’s the knowledge of you thinking about me especially when you’re “not supposed to”. these rules you made up in your mind about me, all safety precautions to avoid pain of any sorts afflicted by me. but once this illusionary barrier between me and you is gone, and what is hidden is brought to light, we may be together. when this will be, i cannot tell. although i may say that it will be one day, because i wouldn’t be allowing myself this much pain if there wasn’t something really good at the end of it.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

memories

all i think about daily is memories. memories which captivate me, enrapt me in the feelings i felt in the moment, especially with you. one memory that i keep replaying in my head is the second time i went round your place. it was summer, you were home alone and i was coming back from tuition so naturally we made plans to go to your place. i remember being so excited the whole journey there, warm butterflies fluttering inside of me. it was raining that day, so i second i got out the bus i covered my hair and ran to your flat. flat 25, if i remember correctly. i knocked on the door, to see you open the door with a cheesy grin on your face. i felt truly complete, like as if all the problems that life threw at me simply disappeared. i welcomed my own smile on my face and joined you inside. after i took off my shoes, you lead me into your bedroom. you were always so modest about your place, i didnt ever really know why, yet i always thought it was one of the cutest spots ive ever seen. i sat down on your bed and just enjoyed the moment of me being there; you and me, alone. a sigh slipped from my lips. you spun round in your chair to look at me and to join me on the bed. you huddled closer to me and i leaned my head on your shoulder. to be completely honest, it wasnt the most comfortable position to be in for a longer period of time, the leaning down, yet i would sit there forever if it meant being with you. i’ve always remembered the little things you used to do, like whenever you had your head above mine, you would always kiss my forehead, just like you did then. and after the way you looked me in my eyes made me feel like i actually was someone, as if i were the only person to exist. no one had ever looked at me like that before, never. then you looked down at my lips and kissed them. that kiss was so magical, i still vividly remember it today. the sensation of your fingertips as they searched for the back of my neck for support, you began to kiss me harder. your eyes calmly closed as your lips started opening mine, intertwining your tongue with mine. we descended from sitting up to me lying down, you on top of me. you kept kissing me hard, your longing clearer and clearer with every kiss. no words needed to be said in that moment, because i knew exactly what you were thinking. it’s kinda like our minds began thinking at the same wavelength. most of these memories are in a certain foggy atmosphere, trapped behind the fortress my mind had created to enprison anything to do with you. yet the feelings never seemed to go away. i can tell you for sure that in some way i did love you, but not to the extent that you loved me. and one may say that there needs to be some kind of equilibrium, a balance, but i have yet to hear about a balance that is even with one side weighing more than the other. thats not the case with love. i did not truly love you, especially because of the way i treated you. that still haunts me to this day. its a never-ending nightmare, those texts. i can never undo my actions but only work on future ones. and thats what i hope to do with you. im actually ok with waiting for you, especially because i can see the light at the end of the tunnel that is us. it’s a feeling i can’t completely shake or comprehend, for i think i’m still trying to grow and mature into it. i can’t force anything, and i’m not planning to. for if you ever truly did love me like you did in my memories, then you will see one day what you feel and let yourself feel that again.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

myself (june)

I looked at her today. Her hair colour changed, it’s way lighter now. Kind of how she is now. Her skin is tanner, her cheeks blushed and her freckles back. I don’t know how to act around her, I mean she blocked me on everything two days ago so I’m completely paralysed in a desolate place without any contact from her. I know I love her now, even thought it took me so long to realise this. She confessed to me so long ago, so is there even any point in trying?

I always stare at her, I don’t know if she’s noticed or not, to be honest I don’t particularly care. Her hair is curly, twisted into golden springs that practically glow in the sunlight. Her beautiful smile, quite literally radiating all happiness. It’s as if a sunset were put into a literal person; all warm colours from the copper in her hair to the red in her cheeks, something one becomes enrapt by, not wanting to ever look away, just in case you miss something. Her eyes bring light to mine. They’re wide and almost deer like, she reminds me of bambi actually. Her eye colour is undefined yet is of swirling pools of green and hazel, changing to the colour of the light. Her small upturned nose, one that you could see yourself kissing the tip of. Her soft pink lips, now blending into the newly tanned complexion she has, ones I could only wish to kiss. I hope to kiss them. Soon.

I tried to move on so many times, I even told her to move on. Though every time I tried to move on, she was right there, looking more perfect than the last time I saw her. She seems so cheerful now, uplifting, lighter than a feather. Hearing her giggle, being an echo from the past. She’s the perfect human being. So perfect I can’t even fathom how she exists. She can do all things under the sun, apart from play gun games, which is more funny than embarrassing. She can sing like an angel, flirt and be funny without even realising it, she can dress so perfectly it brings models to shame. She is intellectual, smart, and can write poems. She enjoys literature, watching old movies and imagines herself being in them. She finds all the beautiful things in people and brings them to light to others. She can make music, play guitar. She can draw, and decorate the place around her. She can make you feel so special, she can make you feel the emotion of love. She is worth all my efforts.

So in response to the question of even trying, yes there is a point to trying. Will it work out? I don’t know. All I know is that if she was willing to put in her all for me a couple months ago, she might possibly be willing to do it all again right now. I need to apologise for how I’ve been treating her, because I’m aware I’ve been really shitty. And most of all I need to tell her that I love her and the I will fight for her no matter what.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

love

Love. A complicated word. One syllable, four letters. You’d think it’s so simple and easy to understand. From a young age we’re taught about things we love, the first page of every diary being an about me page filled with everything I love. And I loved many things. I formed attachment issues to these things, excerpts of my emotions attached to inanimate objects which I viewed as a part of myself. What changed? When did I stop viewing love in things and began viewing love in people? Noticing every single detail, every single turn, every overdue breath. Am I going crazy? Overanalysing an everyday regular just like the coffee poured in my little cardboard cup at 12:00, my chest pounding so much a heart attack would go undetected, when did it all spiral out of my control?

I’m a control freak. I like having the ability to control situations around me; do I cut this person off? do I speak to this group of people? or do I go unrecognised, invisible? Questions upon questions that I answer on the daily. I hate when something is out of my control, broken from my metaphoric leash. So how am I letting these feeling control me so much? This love that is all consuming, all giving. Something I’m willing to give up everything for. It feels like after all this time of feeling then not feeling, I’ve found something stable. Weird, scary, but stable. So, if this feeling of love is so stable, why did it have to be attached with the one person that I feel it may never be fulfilled with? Most of the time I go beyond rationalising problems and simply blame them on everything around me: my mental health, my school life, my friends or should I say people who pretend to be my friends, the people I love. Now I know this isn’t the best way out, but when I am mentally breaking down that is usually the most radical solution for me to not break fully. I’m not in that type of situation anymore, in fact I’m doing great with my life, really. I’ve rekindled old friendships with people I would’ve never expected to ever speak to again. I’ve invested time and effort into myself, I actually know myself, I have hobbies like drawing or reading in my spot in the forest. I have people who actually respect me, I of course will still be spoken about but it’s like I have this sort of standing in this messed up society we have at school. Honestly, I have everything I’d have wanted at this point in life, everything I strived for back in September. I was generally happy and complete, until the middle of January. To be completely real, I don’t actually know what happened to make me start feeling this but I felt really empty. Not in a dark depressive way, but more in a missing puzzle type of way; you’ve completed the puzzle apart from having that one missing piece that you just can’t find anywhere.

That’s where you come in. You see for the past few months, ever since you told me that we couldn’t have a relationship of any sorts, I’ve had a hate type of mindset. I felt that if I didn’t hate you, I would be sad and depressed and I was already avoiding that all costs. So, I kind of turned off my feelings in a way. It was pretty great. Looking at you not feeling anything, no tying links, no memories, just seeing you as a person that was an accessory to the downfall of my life. That doesn’t say I was doing ok still, but it eased everything I felt.

In December, when I sent you those distraught messages, I genuinely felt something. It’s like immediately speaking to you kind of sparked something in me. I ignored it, how could I feel sympathy towards someone that had something to do with a person like Her, a person that ruined my life. That’s how I felt in the moment. Now looking back at it, a part of me actually really missed you, and hoped you would’ve said that you changed your mind and that it was all a joke. But you didn’t. So, I ended it in a classic your mom joke and blocked you; the perfect way to convince everyone, including myself, that that was all a joke, revenge for leaving me. I honestly don’t know why I thought that, well I do because I’m me and I understand myself better than anyone but still, I’m convinced that was one of the most horrible things I’ve ever done to a person. So, although it’s late, I’m sorry. Seeing as we’re analysing emotions from the past, I’m sorry for not realising your emotions in September. I was so deep in my world; I didn’t realise how yours was crumbling along with mine. You lost two of your family members, and instead of standing by you, pushing through my own issues to help with yours, I left you hanging. I left you with expectations to still remain my friend, which wasn’t right at all. I was ignorant and careless with what you felt and overlooked it all. Which is why I’m saying what I need to say.

The day I realised something was missing in my life, was also the day I fully felt something other than hate towards you. On the contrary, I didn’t hate you at all. Instead, I felt relieved. Like as if I finally found that missing puzzle piece and fully completed the puzzle. I was completely weirded out by this, because quite literally the day before I really loathed you, but in classic me style, I tried to avoid it. Tried. I avoided anything to do with you; whether that was listening to Tyler the Creator or watching JoJo’s, I had to forget you. But this feeling of relief, just kept growing, and getting stronger. Out of my control. So much I simply couldn’t ignore it. So, I let these feelings grow. I accepted them. Whether or not that was a good decision, I don’t know, but it definitely shows that I’m trying to deal with them. For the next passing weeks, I was still confused about why I felt like this, until Valentine’s Day, when I realised, I love you. And I swear on my life when I admitted that, I felt like all of the confusion I felt just left, all the knots that this love caused, simply untangled. At the same time, as those problems were solved, others formed. How and why the fuck would I be in love with you? I broke up with you. I broke your heart and left you, and now I want you back? It doesn’t make sense.

I don’t know why I’m feeling like this. I don’t know what caused it really but what I do know, is that it’s the strongest love I’ve ever felt for anyone. You might be thinking about the time I said those same three words eight letters many months ago, but I can reassure you that whatever I felt then compared to how I feel now, was practically nothing. This love is so strong, that I actually have the power to confess how I feel about you. With this love, I‘m all in. This love’s a poker game with all my chips in the middle of the table, betting on us. It’s the type of love I’m willing to wait for, fight for and also let you go for.

That’s the complicated love I feel, one that’s only towards you and no one else. One syllable, four letters, a word that’s all yours.

Update: I fucking hate this person.

[toptenthingsihateabouteverything]

k

I hate the letter ‘k’. It’s such a useless letter. Most of the time when words include the letter ‘k’, it’s silent; knit, knock, knight, you get the gist. Yet in the vast number of letters in the alphabet, ‘k’ was the one that hurt me the most. Maybe it’s the bland response of ‘k’ to an important text, or maybe that it is the first letter of a common vulgar phrase ‘kill yourself’, or perhaps it being the first letter of a name of a person that has hurt me beyond imaginable limits. Who knows. Nobody knows. Yet ‘k’ does. A single letter is the name of one of my favourite Cigarette After Sex songs, the title literally being ‘K’, so although this letter being hurtful, it stands to some significance. The song itself speaks volumes, the singer wants his lover to come back, her name beginning with ‘k’. I can relate to that song, as I had two people, I loved beginning with the same letter. The first person was very special to me, she helped me develop as a person and grow into someone understanding and emotionally mature. To be completely honest, I never really wanted to gain those traits from her, I mean it is useful however unnecessary for this age. I cried a lot for this ‘k’, especially when I lost her. Now looking back at it, I don’t think I would change a thing, apart from the fact that I blamed myself for everything. The second ‘k’ that came into my life wasn’t long after the first ‘k’. She was happy and kind and made me feel special in ways I had never felt before. So now you may be wondering, how can someone so sweet be linked to such a bitter letter? To this day, I’m not entirely sure. All I’m currently certain of is that I’m now and forever will be disgusted to have had anything to do with that person. I hate when people respond with ‘k’. Within the twenty-six letters of the alphabet and the entire QWERTY keyboard set out in front of a person, you choose to simply say ‘k’. A single syllable, with the tone of a hammer lightly hitting a cloth, this cloth metaphorically being my heart, the hammer banging it until it breaks. I’m a very undecisive person, especially when it comes to my feelings, yet I know for sure that this is definitely in the top ten ways to hurt me the most.