Just Thoughts pt 2

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I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold some pieces of me together. I want to tell myself that I’m sorry, sorry for giving up, sorry for leaving, sorry for hurting me. But there’s a part of me thats too ashamed, too ashamed to admit that I left me, too ashamed to admit that i spoke badly to me, too ashamed that i believed the lies people told me about myself. So there I am standing, waiting for her to come out, to give me, to give us another chance. 

I started writing again in order to start living again. 

The words ran from my fingers like my tears to the river of forbidden happiness and love.

 The stench of pain could no longer withstand. It was reeking, screaming, clawing to be let the fuck out. So I started writing again to live and not be a victim to words. 

 My words .

I had to get to a point of understanding that my words have effect and my words have meaning and I’m a voice . Not “A” , I apologize… I’m THE voice . Maybe i’ll wake up one day and i’ll know what they’ve been talking about, all this time. i’ll open my eyes and the world will be brighter, and i will be in love, and things will be fantastic and beautiful, and i’ll know why every book i ever read as a kid had a romance. i’ll know why romance makes us human. i’ll finally understand what made me so inhuman the night before. and then life will go on, and i’ll be normal. i’ll have no explanations and excuses to make; i’ll share a bed with someone. it will be exactly what i’ve been watching, uncomprehending, my entire life: the princess finally feels the pea, and the frog is miraculously a prince (and that’s the power of love, you know, that’s what i’ve been told. a kiss makes you human. isn’t it poignant? i think i should be less shy with my metaphors).

maybe i will. and then i can let go of the wrench in my heart when romantic love is put forth as an expectation for personhood. when it’s put forth as an expectation to be loved, in return. is that what it takes, to be loved? to wake up different? normal? it’s a horrifying thought, really. i wouldn’t want it, given the choice. i’d be different. i won’t abandon myself so easily.

You can spend hours of your time wanting, so much energy fuelling desire, but that doesn't mean that what you're begging for is meant for you. Hell, it doesn't even mean that you deserve it. 

            And that . That’s why I stopped using my voice because I didn’t feel like I deserved to be the voice that y’all allowed me to be but then I had to realize that this wasn’t on y’all , this gift was given to me and I deserve to live up to that . Everything that I’ve done I’ve busted my ass for , the person I created out of me ? I wanted that . So the title I’m given … I deserved this. 

And I know… I do not love the way that the rest of the world does. i know this. i think i understand love all the more, for that. i had to discover love—had to slice it out of my chest, dripping blood, with edges like thorns, to really look at it, to know it. to understand. so i'm shaping myself into the form of love. the colors of it. i'm fitting myself into the sharp point of a heart, the tip of an arrow; cupid's bow cannot sacrifice efficiency for gentleness. love does not exist soft. i am draping myself in red, like love, like blood; sharp planes cut like the edges of paper flowers. i do not love the way you do, so i will become it, until love is what i make it. it can be mine, because it will be me. i know love. i am love.

-Asia✨