Tag Archives: writing

The Center of My Universe

I didn’t start this relationship with you with the idea that I would be getting crumbs of attention. No, just a sip won’t do. The whole reason that I fell for you was because I wanted to drown in your love. Engulf me. Swallow me whole.

When you acted as if my presence was enough for you, as if I didn’t need to put on an act, I didn’t need to perform… You made me feel like you not only accepted me, but also adored me, cherished me, and celebrated me. When you acted as if no details in my life were ever insignificant to you. When you placed your eyes on me as if I was the center of my own universe.

Those are the reasons I fell in love with you. Those are the reasons my heart keeps pining for you. And when you’re not here it’s like my heart tries to claw itself out, rip my chest open from the inside, tear myself apart so it could reach out and grab you.

Lebay. But it does feel like that, I’m not joking.

But the way you’ve been treating me this past month has been less than acceptable. I was made to wait on you, work hard to earn a shred of your affection. Like when you slept with your ex and I felt you were pulling away from me. You made me think I was just imagining things. Like I was just hormonal. Overly sensitive.

I bent over backwards waiting on my hands and knees, be the best girl for you to earn back your tenderness. And I thought I finally did. And I was happy.

But then the Reddit DM thing happened. Again I was being stone-walled, gaslit, manipulated. I was made to think of my sins and repent even though I didn’t do anything wrong. I was pressured to admit guilt over something I never did. You were trying to crack me open under pressure. Instead of just… Communicating with me like I was your girlfriend.

But nah. I don’t think you think of me as your girlfriend anymore, and I don’t know when that stopped. Although you did say I was your woman, your best girl… But I don’t think you think of me as an equal to you anymore. Let alone putting me on a pedestal.

You put me in the backseat. Heck. The trunk maybe. I kept trying to chase your shadows and beg for crumbs of love, sleeping with notifications on, waiting for your messages. Ears perked up with every notification, never dared to let a minute go by before replying to you. I was so parched, that I felt like I had to be grateful you scrapped together some attention for me.

Maybe I was too much for you. But can you really blame me for being clingy to you when you were the one who trained me to depend on you? To count on you to catch me when I fall? To count on you to come running if I just rang the bell?

So all the way from your health problem to your ex to reddit DM to your mom to your office to your vacation… You haven’t been present, but I get it. I can take the backseat. Sure, why not. I try to stay still and wait until your life calms down a bit and you’ll have more time for me. It’s okay. Life happens, but you’ll save the last dance for me won’t you?

And through all that I held my end of the bargain so to speak. I texted you first thing in the morning, and the last thing before I went to sleep. I had been a very good girl. I’m bruised and battered and bleeding holding my post to keep being connected to you. But then what did I get?

You still questioned if I cared.

When the real question is, do you?

You don’t.

Somewhere along the way in this relationship the tables have turned. I am now the one pursuing you all the time. I’m the one panicking over losing you. I’m the one simping. I’m the one feeling butterflies when you told me you loved me.

How did it end up like this, I wonder. Maybe sleeping with your ex had made you realized that sex can be good be anyone else, it doesn’t have to be me. Or maybe it made you realize that you wanted something in person, and I do not fulfill you enough.

Or maybe you were never actually the loving, doting, passionate man who fell head over heels for me. Maybe it was NRE after all. Maybe my time is up.

I’m done.

If you weren’t gonna freely give me your love, I don’t want to chase it. If you weren’t gonna shower me with your attention, I’m done begging for it. If I no longer make you happy, so happy that you smile yourself to sleep just because I was there with you… Then why am I even fighting so hard for you? If you weren’t gonna cherish me, adore me, anchor me to the center of my universe… If you don’t want me. Then why am I stubbornly staying?

I have done all I could. And I’m done.

It was a heck of a journey. But I’m still glad we met, and we gave it a try. I’m still glad cos you made me feel things I have never felt before. You showed me the kind of happiness I didn’t know was ever available or even possible for me. If I could pull through, one day I can give myself a real chance at a love like that.

But for now I need to find ways to face my fears. Of the dark, the silence, the most vulnerable seconds right when I’m falling asleep. Cos those moments are when your ghost haunts me the most. Your warmth, those sparkles in your eyes, the soft cotton on your shirt, your twinkling smile. Your love for me. Sweet dreams that sweep me off my feet and make me lose my balance again and again… But they’re not real.

The reality is… You’re not here.

Ashes

She stood silently, watching her castle roared into a blaze.
Not by war, nor betrayal. She had brought the fire herself.
The flames danced before her, mesmerizing so,
despite the ruin in their wake.

No more banquets shall be held in this hall.
All wine evaporated into the air.

Why would a Queen burn her own throne, one may ask.
She stared, teary eyed.
I was cold, she said.

Gone were the cherry pies and rosemary lamb,
for all she could taste was ash.
And her clothes were frayed, but who fucking cares,
when the cinders keep her bare feet warm.

And on, the fire crackles, filling the night with its echoes.
She raised her face and gazed at the ashes of her crown,
flying up, up, up in the air.
Then she whispered a question.

Is this all there is?

The fire hissed,
but it did not answer.

Echoes

He came into my life like a fiery tornado I never saw coming. I thought I knew fire; I played with it, traced its edges, and let it flicker on my fingertips. But I guess I underestimated how much it could burn. How much I would burn.

His gaze lingered, smoldering against my skin. I could still feel it on my cheeks. His touch left embers around my neck, branding me in ways I couldn’t name. His love was like a wildfire. Feverish, unstoppable, a blaze so fierce it consumed me whole.

And fuck, wildfires don’t just burn, they roar. No. They roar, they crackle, they hiss, they fill all your senses until all your reality is them. But you know what’s worse? The deafening silence it left behind.

Cos now I walk through the ruins, haunted by the echoes of his fire. The scars on these trees. The ashed grass. The black smoke in the air. That ringing in my ears, the moment I realized I was alone.

Except, I could still hear him, loud and clear. Everywhere I look I can hear him… Or at least I wanted to.

But when I stepped forward, hoping to hear more clearly, all that answered was the echoes. Unforgiving, blaring, hollow. Remnants of something that once roared so loud.

I asked for a loud love.

Not to be left alone in the echoes.

I Thought I Missed You

…But I might have been wrong.

It’s such a weird feeling that’s been hanging in the back of my mind for a while. “You’re Still The One” by Teddy Swims reminds me of you. When I pleasure myself I have a hard time fantasizing about other people. So I must be hung up on you, right? I must have had feelings for you, right?

So why is it that all the other love songs I listen to sound so exaggerated and so wrong? I can’t relate. Nothing describes my so-called “feelings” for you. I was listening to Katy Perry’s “Thinking Of You” when I realized that. She sang, how do I get better once I’ve had the best?

Logically speaking, you should be the best I’ve ever had. I mean, you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve been with, that’s for sure. You’re a lot of my firsts, and I could say without a doubt that you are extremely hot.

…But you’re not really the best for me, are you. We didn’t really connect as well as I wrote we did, did we.

Maybe what I missed was more of what I could be when I was with you? Maybe what I missed was our potential, what we could have been. Maybe I wrote so many things about us and I fell in love with the idea of us, rather than falling for… You.

It is for sure unfortunate that we couldn’t be what I thought we could. What you convinced me we could, even after time and time again I reminded you of how inexperienced I am. Maybe you had me convinced that I was enough, even with my limitations. Maybe you had given me hope that I was enough, even with all my shortcomings. And maybe I had let myself believe you. So maybe what I’m missing is more of those abstract hopes and ideas rather than… You.

Look. I’m not saying you’re not special. I am thankful for the ways you practically dragged me out of my hidings. I’m grateful you visited my life, and left a mark so big I am now out here wildin’. You gave me the push I needed to embrace that I probably could be what I wanted to be, if I just try. And you let me try. And I’m thankful for that.

But now it’s all over and I’m just standing alone. And I thought I missed you.

…But I just don’t.

Is this how people feel about their one night stands? You’re not a one night stand for me, though. You were mine. Or at least “the idea of you” is mine. Was mine.