Quite the Opposite of Vindicated

There's a reason to everything in life, or at least that is what I'd like to believe. I've been blogging on and off since I was 15, first on bolt.com (which is now defunct), then on other platforms, before moving on to Blogger.com. And even on Blogger.com, I have two accounts. I chose this one because the other account contains more blogs that I went through. If you're reading the sidebar and notice what I've written, that was from three years ago. That is still me, so I decided to keep it. The only thing that's changed is my age, of course.

Somehow I came to the realisation that starting a new blog often signifies the start of something new in life (that's the more manic, positive side of me speaking) or rather, the end of something (and that's my bitterness taking over). I even had my own domain for two to three years, that was www.razzberry.org (which is now defunct, just like many other things/situations/people in my life).

I know the next few months, if not years, will be very difficult for me, and writing has always been a way for me to express myself. NOTE: By now, some of you who have been reading my old blogs/following me for some time will realise and wonder why I'm writing in such clarity, with no profound words or statements, but fret not, that is yet to come. So, as I was saying, I am now in a very dark place. Possibly the darkest, yet most bittersweet moment in my life, ever. By far, at least. That is, if I make it, but I don't want to go there. Not yet, at least. Not now, not when I am feeling this way. Because I realise that the madness ends when you are feeling this way. "What madness?", I was asked by a friend today. And I said, "The spunkiness. The spontaneity. The craziness. The zaniness. The sense of humour."

Of course, I can't promise not to torture anyone on Facebook (which seems to be my main mode of self-expression these days) with what I'm going through, but I will try. Which is probably why this blog came about anyway - so that I'm able to rekindle the old days of writing with no worry, and hopefully I will be able to find some strength in the words that I often find comfort it. With all that said, I will now attempt to journal.

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There's a reason to why things happen. It hasn't fully sunk in; the realisation of this great loss. I keep telling myself, this feels like a divorce. I spent the last two hours going through old blog posts, and encountered posts that touched on love, marriage, commitment, and my fear of them all. If only you knew. If only you knew how badly I wanted someone to strip me bare, strip me naked, down to my bones and touch me and expose me for who I am. And you did just that. I know now that you came into my life not by coincidence. You were brought into my life when I had become someone I couldn't be; the same person I talked about being three years ago, right before we happened. Unlike most people trying to climb out of their comfort zones, I had done exactly that, and I felt too much, saw too much, feared too much, and wanted so badly to climb back in. I held on to that fear for so long until you came along and you broke those walls I had built around me.

I am brought back to a Sunday more than three years ago when I was lying down on this bed in Ikea, and you snuck up behind me and planted a kiss on my arm. A small, gentle kiss. I couldn't help it. Along with the kiss, you planted goosebumps on my shoulders that crept down my spine. I could have easily turned my face around and faced you, and we could have kissed right there and then. Who cares if anyone was looking? It felt right. But it wasn't. Because it wasn't meant to happen there and then. Maybe because if it did, I wouldn't be able to walk through Ikea ever again. Stung by past memories, I wouldn't be able to walk past that same section or see anyone hanging around that area. Perhaps I would be enveloped with rage or confusion or just plain sorrow.

Disengage me from this battle, for you would have won. And in the end, I think you did. You won the battle but not the war. Because to me, none of us can really go home with a trophy.

Home. Right now I'm in transit it feels like there's no home for me anywhere. I cannot turn to you and say "thank you". Not now, not yet. Not when we're still under the same roof, and you're still sitting next to me, and everything could be the way they used to be, but they're not. Because we're not. You didn't just make an entrance into my life; you actually stormed into my life. Just like a hurricane, you swept me off my feet, turned me insane, and became the one person I could see myself ending up with. I stopped being who I was, you said. You said that I stopped making you happy. And for that I want to say "I'm sorry". I wish I could take myself away from your life in entirety because even if I brought small seeds of sorrow into your life, which I surely did, and in oceans, I can't forgive myself for it. And right now I can't.

Because you're the one person who could tell me that, upon discovering a T-shirt that says "Happily ever after was so once upon a time", it was the silliest T-shirt because it means that it happened once ago. But the thing is, it did. I probably never told you this, but before you, there were two other guys who proposed. Either jokingly or seriously, I'm not sure. But one had a ring. The other didn't. Both didn't go on one knee. And ironically, you didn't either, because you went on both. You had that look on your face. And I was this psychotic crazy person who went off on you the next day.

Because it's so hard for me to admit this to myself, but I know I have to, and I will... that I ruined everything. It's like I've been building an emotional wall with Lego pieces all my life, and you came along and stomped on them, and I ruined everything by slapping you instead of thanking you instead.

But that wall I built was perhaps the same thing that would have protected me against you. But looking back, why would I need protection? You opened my heart and made me feel. You took my heart out, repaired some of the broken parts, and gave it back to me. Or did you? Because I remember yelling at you just more than a month ago when you threatened to leave, and yelled out loud that "I gave you all my heart, and that is why you cannot go".

But now I see it clearly. Now I realise how some cliches are so true. When you love someone, you have to set them free. Especially when you have been hurting them so. Especially when you know they deserve to be with someone better than you.

I guess what I really want to say is that I made so many mistakes, and I wish with all my heart that I never happened to you.

Because I'm a damaged good from the start, and nobody deserves a damaged good.

Nobody.