助けて。

Waking up from a nightmare where there were nothing but pleasant memories.

Destroyed a few pages from old journals by slipping them inside the fire used to burn unwanted things.

I appreciate the memories but sometimes, we need to let go. Holding onto our precious treasures too much can make them damaged in the long run.

Weather is gloomy lately and the smell of the soil after the rain is nice. Want to burn an candle at night before sleep but the image of the flame dancing scares me.

Every time I close my eyes, there is this green/blue light flashing in the dark. It etches itself onto the lens of my eyes and is present after waking up.

There is nothing wrong with us, nothing wrong with the memories; only dishonesty and reluctance. They created a rift and we both are unwilling to cross over.

And mulling over the past doesn't change what has happened. We can only change how we feel about it in the present.

Therefore, just remember who I was and how I used to be. The current one is just a mere shell of the one that you liked.

A long period has ended, and so are the book of us. Close the book and shelve it away.

I am adding new pages every now and then. Let the mistakes forever be at the end of the book.

At the very mention of you, and a glimpse of you and the things you left, I can feel the blood from my face draining away.

I wonder if you are watching over me now.

Just keep up the prayer and know that I am trying to do my best without you.

Perhaps, one day in the future, we will meet again. Until then, I will do my best.

The neglecting is not a mystery. It is no longer a secret and to be relieved of the burden I carried for so long, keeping the fact that I kept holding on to something that is not mine; it is a bliss.

However, we must not be too happy.

There are things we need to forget, and there are things that we want to remember. But we are also prone to forgetting the ones we cherish, and reminded of the ones we wish not to recall.

I am trying to sort what's in my mind, and ending up with fragmented sentences and paragraphs. The ones I want to be the first is being placed at the very end. Disjointed words are thrown here and there, and I am rephrasing the subjects left untouched.

What has happened in the past years?

The diagnosis is true; once I am able to figure out the first few words, everything else will come like a torrent of unstoppable stream. Once it started, I would be unable to stop it and keeping it quiet won't be good to my subconsciousness. It needs to be let out, to be known to many. I have kept myself silent in the past years, and in the process, I wounded a lot by making them believe that they were unneeded.

In my mind, we are still there. Nothing is in our way and we are laughing at the real us that has been apart.

'If you have been kinder, you won't make the two of you suffer', said the imaginary me.

'If you tried harder, you won't be longing like how you are right now,' said the imaginary you.

The imaginary us is indifferent to all that has happened. They know, but they chose not to interfere. They used to, but they have been desensitized by the amount of neglect we did to each other.

Why am I reminding myself of the past when I need to move on?

I want you to notice this, but at the same time I am wishing that you won't. Maybe by making this long enough to make you lost interest in the middle, I can do that.

I want to make you respond to me, but at the same time I don't want you too. It would make it seem like we are still shackled to the past and it will burden us again. We won't be able to move forward then.

I wish that time will turn back, but that means we will need to get through all that once again.

What if I succeed in returning to the point where it all began to fall apart? For sure I would try to fix everything so we don't have to be sad in the future.

What if by doing that, I am depriving someone of his happiness? Knowing that I sacrificed another for my own, I do not think I can live with that.

But then again, I did that before and I didn't know it. The sacrificing part, I mean.

I want to stop everything. The world is revolving too fast and I feel like I am being left behind. I can try to keep up, but right now I am still winding up my spring.

I pictured my life to be a glossy blue bucket, the cheap kind that we can find easily in local market. The water inside indicates my will, and there is a small hole from which water leaks out. Sometimes it gets dangerously low and rarely it overflows. If I feel like it, I will refill the bucket so as to avoid looking at the bottom when I peer inside. Sometimes there would be a bump and the water spill out. Sometimes another person would pour their own water inside and rarely I give away mine for their buckets.

How will my bucket look like in the next ten years?

A Symbolic Act of Killing Our Inner Demon

This has been postponed for a while.

Recently I haven't been too healthy mentally. The cause I will try not to mention but might be very easy to guess.

Perhaps that's my problem; the root of everything. I am not able to express myself fully. In frustration, I would lash out and hurt others without knowing.

However what I did in the the span of around 8 months ago wasn't done unknowingly.

I consulted a friend, and he suggested that I write my feelings down because I can't do so verbally. So I sat down with pen and paper in front.

Hours later, the paper was still blank, but the feeling in my chest continued to swell. "Why is it like this?" I thought. Years ago, I would be able to properly write anything and be satisfied afterwards.

So I consulted the same friend again. He said perhaps the medium is not suitable for me, and asked me to try typing it down instead.

And here it goes.

I am guilty. And the punishment has been handed down to me.

Sure enough, it hit like a truck. However, I am very sure I deserve it.

Now, I'll try to convey what are the things in my mind slowly.

Firstly, my idea of a romance seem to differ from her. I should have known. But still I insisted. And that is where all fell apart.

To be precise, the moment she left the school, it was not the same anymore. Long-distance relationship. I had to deal with the anxiety that she would be snatched away and I could hear nothing about it.

Anxiety eats deep, and my mind started to become ugly.

I accused her of being unfaithful, and also manipulated someone else to fill in the blanks that she had left behind. That is the beginning of the crack in her.

All the time, she started to stop believing in me. It wasn't her fault. I think it is just in our nature to retaliate back to the things that hurt us. It's what makes us alive.

I remember being worried of all things that happened to her, but at the same time I also remembered the jet-black jealousy that clouded my judgement. Back then, it seemed like a justified thing to do. After all, she was the one that left, right? And also being friendly with other man while leaving me hanging, waiting for a text message.

I have a fear of interactions. And so it warps how I see the world. I avoid all possible conversations like plague. And that way, I would show that I am being faithful and remain loyal to her. Her and only her alone.

However, I also expected her to do the same. Hence, the reason I was jealous. The anger I felt that moment, I cannot describe but it was also painful. My own mind poisoned me, asking if I was enough for her. Because if I am, she wouldn't be talking to another person, right?

She was hurt. A lot, to be exact. She found out that I had been talking to another person secretly. How and when, I am not sure. Me and her, we had our own version of the story. But I agree on the fact that she found it out on her own.

So the crack on her heart grew larger.

We fought, and all the anger, all the jealousy I bottled down, I let them out. Blinded by ego, and the feeling that I was doing the right thing (by hurting her), I fail to notice that she had started to make a few steps away.

Sure, we apologized and forgive each other after that, but since then, we both carried an aching scar inside us.

We rarely met, even though we flaunted that we were in a relationship. We bragged that we were together for 3 years. However, the moment when we actually had time for each other was too little. Far too little for a couple of 3 long, happy years.

I blamed myself for not yet driving, and her for being busy with her own chores and work. Although, I suspected that if I insisted on seeing her a lot,  I would be able to, and she would gladly welcome me anytime. So the question now is, why?

I guess I was running away from my own responsibilities. And I am always thinking that I am constantly being a burden to everyone in my life.

Going back to ten years ago, I was attending an all-male secondary school that time. I am trying to forget the years I spent there, but I am too embittered by my experience that whenever I feel stressed out, I would recall all the bad things that happened there involuntarily.

I had a very good friend there. Had, yes. Past tense. I left him and all those painful memories when I transferred school.

Going by my nature, I tend to latch onto someone. I am mostly vulnerable when I am alone, and needing someone to be the safety net for me to fall back when things get tough.

Sure enough, I spent most of my time with my good friend there at school.

This defense mechanism of mine is also a flaw that attracted bullies. I can say that by that time, all the boys there were trying to climb onto the popularity ladder, and the quickest way to go to the top is to identify the weird ones and start harassing them. By doing this, they would attract others with a similar mind and they would also join in their revel.

Since me and my good friend were practically inseparable, we had been called a gay couple. Sure, it was harmless, but imagine being called that for 7 years. Due to how I am, I was greatly distressed by that.

I was also left with a dilemma.

1. I can just stop being with him, and in the process, making me all alone at school
2. Just continue being friends with him, and in the process, being the subject of ridicule by everyone

As being alone is what I am truly scared of, I chose number 2.

Day by day I endured every insult and remarks by other students. And by the end of each day, I could feel that I was beginning to hate people.

Often, I feigned sickness just to avoid going to school but my parents saw through that. 

You might ask: 'Why not tell your parents? Or the teachers at  least?'

I couldn't bring myself to tell my parents. I was enrolled in a supposed-to-be-prestigious school and by being prestigious, parents seemed to believe that all the students there are angel incarnate.

Teachers? Some of them even joined the other students at times. What can I say to them?

Due to all that, sometimes I was even confused myself. What if what they say is all true? What if I am actually having feelings for my good friend?

There were times where I wish I would just drop dead, and honestly I was even considering suicide then. Too much pain held in, and nowhere to tell. Best to just end all that.

And I was close to hurting others as well. I often fantasized on how I would stab all those that hurt me, and being satisfied on finally having my revenge. There were moments where I would find myself holding a sharp object. Once, I held onto a small knife by the sharp edge so hard that it cut deep into my palm, only noticing when the blood flowed and dripped by the end of my fingers.

My good friend, however, wasn't really affected by it. Although, he would show that he was hurt by the remarks sometimes but overall, he was handling it much better than me.

All those bullying made my academic performance dropped considerably, and parents started to notice this seven years later. Heh. When asked why, I requested to transfer school. I had enough. And going to a new school also means a fresh new start.

But that would also mean leaving my good friend behind, but that's okay. After all, being with him brought him pain after all.

 I gathered my courage and told him that I needed to go far away from the wretched school. He made a facial expression that I couldn't read, and then all is well. All is good.

Though I had successfully ran away from that school, I can still remember every excruciating moment I had there. It has affected me so much that my self-esteem was, and still is, practically in the negatives.

I am wary of meeting new friends, and as a side-effect I have a hard time opening up to people. I am afraid that by knowing my past, other would see me as a weakling and would proceed to step on me again and again.

Never. Not that kind of pain anymore.

New people I meet tend to have an impression that I am an unfriendly person. One even note that I seem to lack a sense of humor and never see me laugh before.

However at the new school, I think my heart began to beat warmly again. There people there were much kinder and since I was a transfer student, took interest in me. I began to enjoy the company of many people, and not wanting to part from them again.

Due to being happy, I did a lot of weird things. I guess my social inhibitors were shut down by the euphoria at times. I joined a dance crew just for the heck of it (and caused a great deal of stress to the leader at first, as I am inflexible and also a slow learner) after hearing that there would be a competition. Also, there was a concert held at school and for the first time ever, I screamed something incoherently happily. I was happy, and I wanted to express it to people, and resorted in screaming. Friends thought it was weird though, but it didn't matter that time. I was with good people, people who wouldn't hurt me.

Or so I thought.

During my 7 years at the previous school, I spent a lot of my free time reading English books, as it is one of the few things that would calm me down. This makes me quite fluent in the language itself, both written and verbal.

After the first monthly test, my classmates noticed that I scored high in English Language subject. They praised me on being placed second best in class, and I inadvertently let loose that I read lots of books.

So they asked if I can tutor them, and lend them some of my books for them to read. I agreed.

In my country, we adopted UK educational system, so by the of my 5th Form, we graduated from the school. Most of us applied for 6th Form Centre to further our studies, and we all got accepted. Me and my friends, I mean.

And this is where it was made apparent to me that some people just want to use you as a stepping stone to move forward.

Some of these friends began to treat me differently. One in particular even acted as if he hates me, almost like I have done something bad to him. And this is after our O Levels, where one of the subjects that we need to have credit on is English Language.

After all the effort and time I spent, I am being paid with cold shoulders? Even some of my books were practically destroyed when they were returned to me. What the hell is wrong with people?

And so, I begin to hate people even more. You gave them kindness, and they returned the favor with piss and shit.

Of course, not all people are the same. But it seems like almost all that I meet exhibit that kind of behavior.

Or maybe it is just me that make the wrong friends.

Or I attracted the worst kind of people.

Anyway, in the 6th Form years, I worked hard to get into medical field. That was my dream, after all. I was greatly infatuated in the subject Biology. My passion for it far surpassed those of other subject.

And during my second year, I met her. Yes, her. The one that I mentioned in the earliest few paragraphs. It was a happy time, and I was feeling as if the world is my own. We were in our own reality and I was longing for such feeling, so I welcomed her with open hands.

However, if it weren't for her and my friends, I wouldn't even confessed to her that I liked her. I am the kind of person that, when put under pressure, would start to do things I am supposed to do long time ago. Our friends prodded me to talk to her, and with my confession, I think I broke a few hearts as well.

My best friend by then.

A girl that I ignored in my chase for her whom I hurt.

A close friend of her that had been holding his feelings and refrained from saying them out loud when he saw that we (me and her) were getting closer and closer. Reportedly he punched the wall so hard that his knuckles were bleeding when he heard that I confessed to her.

She had to move school, so that was also the factor. In a way, I feel that we were rushing to get something done before it's too late, and were both fine with it. We were struggling with our own inner feelings and that time, we found comfort in each other.

But how did it end up this way? Why did I hurt her anyway?

To answer those, I think I will need to explain a few things first.

I find myself unable to say "I love you". As corny as the three words sound, I still am unable to say those whenever it is needed. As a friend pointed out when I was having a rare moment of opening out, perhaps I was/is thinking that the timing needs to be right when I say that.

If that's the case, I would have missed a lot of perfect moments, now that I think of it. I can only imagine her pain when she said those three words to me endearingly but didn't get replied with what she wanted.

She wanted to do things that normal couples do, like going out or spending time together. This is evident when she wanted to learn how to play card games, as the few times I went out and met random people were to play card games.

I assumed that she just wanted to do that to impress me, and I thought that she was just doing unnecessary stuffs. She kept saying that she felt that I do not find her to be adequate enough to please me, so I assume that she was just trying to prove that she could also be my playing partner.

But honestly, I really appreciated her and finding her company to be enough already. It was just that I was not able to express it. This is a fault in me that I keep trying hard to fix. No such luck yet.

I remembered getting angry at her after she debated with a friend during a card game session. I still remember her expression when I lashed out, saying that she was being rude with her words.

I didn't know by then, that she was doing that to protect me, as she knows that that friend is not what he seems to be.

I apologized after and she forgave me. However since then, she never talked about wanting to play card games anymore.

So the crack in her heart grew deeper.

Now back to 6th Form school period.

I found out that I had enough points to graduate, but not enough to take a medical course at the local university. And since I could graduate, the school wouldn't have to pay for my exams anymore.

I didn't know what to say, but I was in great distress. My dream, faded away in just one day. I wasn't able to engage in proper conversation for days. And a friend even apologized for being happy about his grades while I was grieving about mine.

I didn't know what to do. And all the while, she was there to comfort me.

Or so I thought.

She had a habit of disappearing all of a sudden, without warning and made me wait for an extended period of time. As she was my safety net then, I found this especially infuriating. I should had known that she was just too busy with her schoolwork and chores, but I chose not to listen to reason.

I wanted comfort and for her to be only with me. She even complained about being tired, but I ignored that. 'Why would I care? I was stressed out. Now please say things that will make me happy'. I bet those were what I was thinking then.

I can say that I get selfish since then. I know that she loved me, and she would be with me forever. That thought proved to be fatal, as even her, with all the patience, had her limits.

The crack in her heart is beginning to split it apart.

When she started to be even less responsive to my messages, I was sad and angry at the same time. And in that moment, I wanted her to feel the same pain I was feeling; the pain of being without the safety net.

This lasted for a long period of time, and when she said she wanted out, I began to panic. This wasn't supposed to happen, I thought. She was supposed to be stuck with me forever.

That was naive, and selfish of me.

However, after that, we still communicated daily, though not the same as before. Now I was the one without the safety net, and I felt terrible.

I did a lot of thinking, and that was when guilt hit me. It was so intense that I wanted to throw up. She did apologize a lot regarding her being absent at times and not able to cater to me and my tantrums, but I chose not to see those.

In short, I only took her for granted. All the time, she was in love but I wound her more and more as time went by.

She had her limits, and I pushed her past her breaking point. I got arrogant and only liked the fact that I had a girlfriend, but was not willing to tend to her. So she took the initiative and left, as there was nothing more to expect from me.

Surely I am a worst human being alive, right? If somehow, someone is reading this, know that I do feel that. I mean, hurting someone that loves you all the time? I really do not know that I had the capacity to do that in me.

She said she still had feelings for me, but didn't want to be hurt anymore. And that was what pained me the most; she was still there, but her hand is not mine to take anymore.

In despair I begged and begged, but she said no. It  was a reasonable answer, though. We need to protect ourselves. Cutting out the things that hurt you is just natural.

However, she gave me a chance though. One single chance. Of course, she didn't say it out loud. She wanted to test me again.

You would thought that I have learnt my lesson after the break-up. Dead wrong.

There was a period of time where she would disappear again and only responding to my texts in short words. And like before, I proceeded to made her feel the same feeling: disappointment and sorrow that your significant other is not attentive.

That was the last straw.

Now she is forever out of my reach.

I deserve this though. I wouldn't lie here, I have suicidal thoughts every now and then. I am only here after I consulted a trusted friend, and also after seeing my mother crying when she knew of what I was trying to do.

Don't get me wrong, though. I do feel like killing myself, and have had a few close calls, but I chose not to. The first time was due to hearing my family's voices. Since then, whenever I feel like doing it, I remembered that my family, at least, would be saddened. Also, the family name would be forever stained if I committed suicide. If I am to kill myself, that would be selfish of me. I would be out of this world, but they would have to bear with my death and be reminded of it all the time.

If I am to describe what I am feeling right now, I wouldn't be able to get a straight answer.

I feel sad that I have let my ego blinded me and ended up hurting the only person that was willing to spend the rest of her life with me.

I feel glad that she and I parted in good terms, though with bitter aftertaste. We won't be hurting each other anymore so that is a good thing.

I feel alone. Very alone. It has been a while that I live without a safety net, and I fear that I will fall anytime. But this, I brought it to myself. I had pushed a lot of people away when they wanted to know me better, and shut myself out from friends who wanted to be with me. And that was because I had my safety net then, and didn't want to get another.

Imagine living in a bubble. Picture it as a protective membrane that will be your personal haven when all goes bad. There is only enough space for you, but you are comfortable with that. No wasted space; all is filled only by you.

Then imagine letting someone inside the bubble. You struggle to expand it to make space to fit you both comfortably. You and her would be confined there, but no worries. You two have each other.

Now imagine her getting out of the bubble. The empty space that results in her leaving. You wanted to fill it with something else but it just doesn't seem right. You can only wish that the bubble will shrink one day and end up with the empty space staring at you every night.



"They don't like you."
Those words haunt me every night. They keep me awake and only through medication I am able to sleep.

"I'm sorry..."
Why sorry? You made your choice. It is your right. You cannot stay forever holding your tears.

"Live on, and when I meet you again, I want to see you happy."
I don't know. Will I be truly happy again? I would do my best.

"I still wonder why you do that?"
I am sorry. I was so hell-bent on getting even that I neglect to consider your feelings in the long term.

"I was surprised that you didn't even think what you did was wrong."
You are right. I can be apathetic at times, and it is not healthy. This has hurt a lot of people, but I didn't know that I also inflict the same pain to you. At that moment when I committed that crime against you, I felt that it was justified.

"I think since then, I lose my trust in you."
Not your fault. If our situation is reversed, I think I will lose trust in you, too.

"Thank you for everything."
I wasn't able to repay your kindness. I don't deserve those words from you.

Was never a pious person before, but I want to change. Being spiritual might be able to shield myself from negative thoughts, but there is no solid proof that they will be gone completely.

After re-reading everything here, I notice that this might feel like I am leaving a will. A very long one, in fact. But this is necessary. I needed to let out everything that I kept bottled in, lest I end up doing something that I will regret.

Big brother, now I know what you feel. Helplessness and despair can really drive someone to the edge and now I know why you did what you did. I am sorry for not being supportive enough and refused to see you when you were admitted to the hospital. I guess I was embarrassed to acknowledge that we share the same blood. When facing emotional pain, someone might be tempted to harm themselves, as physical pain nullifies the pain in their chest. But through you, I learned. I will not do the same mistakes in fear that you might feel that I was inspired by you and feel guilty.

So Hew, I will print this whole thing out and burn it, but I will be keeping it here. A digital copy, you might say. By doing that, this will be my place to go when I feel like doing the same mistake again. And maybe it can make other readers realize if they are treating their loved ones wrongly.

Don't know if you even read the whole thing out, however I really appreciated your suggestions.

'A symbolic act of killing our inner demon'. Let this be the final time my own demon came out and be burned.