For once, I had a feeling I could work through the knots and make the whole mess a little less messier.

For once, I thought trying would get me somewhere.


People don’t have to actually die to be dead to you.

Or worse, for you to be dead to them.

Breathing air in and out and being alive aren’t always the same thing.


Sometimes, the silence is so freaking loud, it doesn’t leave any room for any words.

Also, the silence doesn’t lie. It says what is exactly how it is, no alterations, no changes, no omission.

Silence is the truth, raw and throbbing. Most people do not hear it, maybe because the truth isn’t exactly what they want to hear.


Timing sucks. Life events are all out-of-order, all wrong.

Life never happens in chronological order.


Maybe someday, words wouldn’t fill up the distance between us that is now as heavy and fraught as an ocean.

Maybe someday, lies and pretence would finally acquiesce and give way to honesty.

Maybe someday, you and I wouldn’t be two islands at the different ends of the earth, but be our own little planet.

Maybe someday, we’ll stop thinking that we we don’t deserve love, or happiness, or anything good. Because we shall already have all of those things.


Maybe not today.

Maybe not tomorrow.

But, maybe someday.




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