do you like long letters? i was about to write one to you last night at 3 am. a birthday month letter or may be a birthday letter. as you can read now, i did not suceed and i am trying again. trying again to write, to bolster away the frozen layers from heart and words. it’s a scary thing to do now, at this age – in these times, to write long letters and be fucking honest. people are afraid now. i am afraid too. shit afraid. as i type words, layers fall of my heart, screeching. almost hurting, holding on to the numbness i have created over the months.
i am rambling again, you see. you know, i won’t send this long letter to you. my heart throbs, i can feel it through my big wide chest. i feel ugly, it’s terrible thing to feel. of course, i do love myself. it’s one thing to love oneself and another to practice kindness. i am honestly a narcisstic queen inside my head, if you would peek in you would see how i am strategically imagining things to become a “hero” in all stories. that’s what happens right when you’ve longed for intimate love all your life, you start feeling that you cannot be loved.
you wear grenades to sabotage all things beautiful, to push away the adorable humans (you want to kiss right now) – self – sabotage. to ensure that you stay in misery. because after all these years, you have been acustomed to misery isn’t it. and love? good old love feels cold like alcohol on wounds – healing are we?
may be if they could, they would clench their heart from within their rib cage and throw it. it feels suffocating, isn’t it? to feel like this, to think this. it’s maddening.
i am listening to another love by tom odell and my heart is pouncing, angry at all these words i have written..should i strike them off. what’s the point afterall.
see, i will be honest, i am hurt, tanzim. you are too i know. holy fuck. do you know how maddening this. i don’t even know. okay yes, i have been trying, trying, trying and i have gained two more kilos now. my tummy is a big fat room, i have been eating my emotions.
save me, love me.