One more time.

Some nights I wonder about the people whose hearts I've let down.
Especially of those who are important to me, the ones whom I selfishly can't let go of because they're friends who've become family. I keep them around me, even when I know it's difficult for both of us, but it's going to be even harder if I lose this person - we've been through too much.

Towards a person like that, "I'm Sorry" will never be enough. I know I'm selfish, what's worse is hoping that they'll be accepting of me wanting to keep the friendship. It's one of the hardest things, to keep the people you care about around you and still have to pretend to not care that much. And yet, I put people in such positions.

I am thankful, but also guilty.

Now and then I think about the people in my life in the last 2 over years. I think about how once or twice in the last 2 over years I've meet someone who momentarily stirred something in me. But at the end I'll always choose to let it die. I'll find a million reasons to not try, to avoid what I might be starting to feel. "It'll never work out anyways", "just a passing thing", "now isn't the right time", "why would he ever like me". The number of excuses I've given myself to stop myself from trying is really pretty astonishing.

And then I'll tell myself: When the time is right I'll let it happen again.

Truth is, that right moment I kept talking about actually has long passed.
I gave up on those moments. On the chances to even just give things a shot, to try. I'll sideline anyone who wants to introduce someone to me. I shunned most of the people whom I felt had interest in me.

I locked myself away from meeting new people, or giving anyone, even myself a chance at all. I can't even say for sure that I am capable of having feelings for anyone now. Cause I'm not so sure if I have the courage to do that anymore: To say that I like someone. All I am capable of saying now is most probably " saying I like you is a slight exaggeration, I don't think it's as strong as that." That's perhaps all I can bring myself to say. Pathetic, I know.

I'll admit it: I'm still scared as hell.
Scared of the idea of loving someone again.

And yeah, I know that shouldn't stop me. It's a lousy excuse to give just so I don't have to deal with any of my own emotions. Just for me to stay where I am comfortable. But the thing is, I wanna start trying. It's been tiring, shutting myself up and convincing myself that I don't have feelings (and failing terribly at it might I just say), that it's not going to work out so I just shouldn't try.

I want to have the courage again.
And this time, I'll try to be more hopeful than careful.

Truth is.

We have a tendency to complicate things.

Truth is, it's all pretty straight forward:

If you don't matter to someone, you'll know.

And if you do, they'll show it.

School's been busy: Week 4, a month into this madness. But I'm finding more joy in being busy than when I have free time - Christine was right, too much free time just means thoughts running around uncontrollably like wild horses.

I came to the realization above these few days, after reflecting upon my suppose friendships with some people in my life. I've lost some friends in the last 2 weeks (or maybe I'm in the midst of losing, the meaning doesn't really vary anyways) Point is they were, they are still, important. 

For reasons unsaid, but somewhat understood, I just stood by and watch it slip away. Truth is, I don't really actually matter to these people. I did at a point, maybe? Perhaps? I don't really know anymore. Does it matter? Maybe only to me.

Too many people come and go. 

We live in a society where people take genuine sincerity and concern and twist it, and see it as someone who wants something to gain, someone expanding their options, playing their cards right to gain favours, attention.

I wonder if we ever realised how honestly messed up that thinking is.

And you wonder why it's so difficult to trust in the world these days? Why people rather be mean and manipulative - everyone's going to think that way of you anyways. They all look at you with the same messed up thinking, even when they know the real you. That's the scary part.

Everyday I tell myself to forget it: that there are people in life just meant to be kept at arm's length. Even if you've become close and you thought it was different, everything can change in a moment. You go back to being strangers, acquaintances. Like nothing ever happened.

Truth is, it hurts like hell.

But just like what the world expects: keep that head up, that smile on. 

All those mixed feelings, bury them deep

and keep going.

No one really cares that we're all hurting inside anyways.

07/02/16.

When people leave we always doubt if what happened was ever real - friendships, relationships all alike.

Might it have been easier to hear that he never loved you at all, or that they never really treated you as a friend to begin with. Sometimes the people you love leave you, sometimes it's you who choose to leave the people you love.

The reasons all vary, but the pain felt by the ones left behind is the same.

Weeks, Months, Years later when you look back to it, what is it that will go through your mind? How sorry you are, how sorry they are? What you'd have all done differently. Maybe come then it no longer really even matters why things broke down and why it all ended - people leave everyday after all right?

Maybe, just maybe, for the sake of a terrible excuse we could all comfort ourselves with: they were scared. And so they fled.

So now that I am scared, will it be okay if I choose to flee and leave it all behind?

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Saw this post today on Instagram and it hit close to heart. 

Sometimes people just shut themselves away from you because they are scared.

And sometimes, you can't and shouldn't do anything about it.

Roses.

The Chainsmokers - Roses

What exactly is real? Who exactly is real? 

Reason vs Heart. 

Which should I listen to right now.

Falling into the same thing I'm trying so hard to distance myself from. It's wrong. Is it not? 

What am I to trust? When that feeling of being betrayed sits deep in me, not budging. 

Who am I exactly? To these people. A passing curiosity or a friend or maybe I'm nothing.

Why does it matter to me really? I guess I cared more than I thought I did. 

Or maybe I already knew how much I cared. I just didn't want to admit it. 

That always seems to be the case for me.

"Say you'll never let me go."