I remember when I was younger and I wanted to be beautiful; now I’m older and I want to be intelligent. I want to burn hearts with brilliance and engulf souls with compassion. I want to be loved for my thoughts and nothing else.

—(via substvncia)

Missing you comes in waves; tonight I’m drowning.

Hannah Taylor, “Waves” (via floralandlace)

Dear no one, 
I was once told that when life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile.
For the past months, I’ve been through a lot of echoing pain from my heart. It was like a nightmare I don’t wanna be in. I wanna get out, as soon as possible. There were days that I cried myself to sleep, thinking about thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking… I honestly feel bad for myself. I feel weak that I would even hate myself for being one. I would always tell myself that I will get through this, sooner or later. I just need to make myself busy, feel the pain every once and a while, and sleep. (Yep, I seriously need sleep) 
Truth be told, I’ve been so insanely busy that I drowned myself with too much work. There were lots of days that I would spend my whole time in school - running papers, talking to my professors and exploring traffic for hours. There were lots of days, it seemed like I’ve already forgotten about the pain. It felt like I’m doing a very good job moving on, accepting things. Little did I know that I was wrong, I was caught off guard. Days before I am writing this now, I thought I would write how I’m totally okay. How I am so proud of myself that I have already endured.
I guess, I was wrong. Cliche? Yes.
Worst thing about pain is that it demands to be felt, HARD. For the longest time, I let myself feel it- every bit of it. Somehow, it helped me in a way that reality confronts me. Reality knocks on my door whenever I think of going back. I did everything. I thought I was there.
I was too harsh on myself.
Pressuring myself from moving on when in fact, I know I have this 0.0001% hope that it will work out again. I was too in love, I putted too much of myself on it. It took away the real me. Slowly, I am changing. I can feel it. I’ve become an introvert, I was scared showing people my realness. I don’t want to get attached to anyone. Often times, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to be alone. Despite I, trying my best to move on, it seemed like I just hid my feelings. I just buried it, knowing that one day, it will haunt me. 
And yes, it did.
So yes… My dear no one, I quite miss you.

Dear no one, 

I was once told that when life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile.

For the past months, I’ve been through a lot of echoing pain from my heart. It was like a nightmare I don’t wanna be in. I wanna get out, as soon as possible. There were days that I cried myself to sleep, thinking about thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking… I honestly feel bad for myself. I feel weak that I would even hate myself for being one. I would always tell myself that I will get through this, sooner or later. I just need to make myself busy, feel the pain every once and a while, and sleep. (Yep, I seriously need sleep) 

Truth be told, I’ve been so insanely busy that I drowned myself with too much work. There were lots of days that I would spend my whole time in school - running papers, talking to my professors and exploring traffic for hours. There were lots of days, it seemed like I’ve already forgotten about the pain. It felt like I’m doing a very good job moving on, accepting things. Little did I know that I was wrong, I was caught off guard. Days before I am writing this now, I thought I would write how I’m totally okay. How I am so proud of myself that I have already endured.

I guess, I was wrong.
Cliche?
Yes.

Worst thing about pain is that it demands to be felt, HARD. For the longest time, I let myself feel it- every bit of it. Somehow, it helped me in a way that reality confronts me. Reality knocks on my door whenever I think of going back. I did everything. I thought I was there.

I was too harsh on myself.

Pressuring myself from moving on when in fact, I know I have this 0.0001% hope that it will work out again. I was too in love, I putted too much of myself on it. It took away the real me. Slowly, I am changing. I can feel it. I’ve become an introvert, I was scared showing people my realness. I don’t want to get attached to anyone. Often times, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to be alone. Despite I, trying my best to move on, it seemed like I just hid my feelings. I just buried it, knowing that one day, it will haunt me. 

And yes, it did.

So yes…

My dear no one, I quite miss you.

I thought I was there already, I guess it’s gonna stay for quite a time.

Today, I saw him again after the longest time

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