The Heart Troubled Writer

Last night I couldn't sleep. My future plan is to get lost in my project, but I felt like I needed to retrace my steps and pretend to be a kid again. I started daydreaming, listening to music, and coming up with fight scenes in my head, while I listened to sad songs and try to give my imaginary characters their downfalls or reasons to be someone or notice their destiny. The cliche part of the story.

"My wife is dead, I must avenge her!"

"My parents are dead, I must avenge them!"

"You stole my last poptart, I must avenge it!"

I used to write a lot, it didn't matter what I wrote, just as long as I wrote it. They were very "DND" related, or written stories of my abstract dreams until they became feelings towards someone I met. I became amazed by what I could write, or how much I could write, in fact, everything was written on my iPod. If I had won a small laptop instead, I probably would have done the same thing and it would have been a bit classical than on an iPod touch. Since then I've been addicted to iPhones solely because of the notes I could write instantly on the go without having a floppy laptop out, appearing like I'm hacking the world or something. It was very personal, people thought I was texting with others, and at one time, someone actually managed to read what I had on it. Her feedback was simple, she liked what I had written, and I felt good about myself. Though she and her sister were very cautious because they thought they stumbled upon my "diary" but in honesty, I've only written stories. I had no secrets, just worlds, and so many imaginary friends. I was quite lonely growing up, the time I started reading and writing was also the time I started placing my imaginary friends in small worlds like if they were chess pieces. Don't get me wrong, it's very hard to write action sequences. I haven't really done that in a while. I wish I could change my fonts, I really love writing in style. It gives me ideas, and whenever I put them on paper, it feels just right.

About last night, however, I watched a show where a woman had a conversation about love and "fucking". Something about no matter how good the sex is, there will always be that someone you'll think of. Someone you couldn't be, or missed the opportunity to be with and is now a song stuck on repeat in your head. At that point, I felt like I had no choice but to feel what she was feeling. At that point, I felt like I had no choice but to feel what I was feeling towards this one person, and no matter how many times I went against it, I kept thinking "never give up on someone you love". When we were over, everyone, every tv show I watched, every commercial, every pigeon with lips would always tell me "never give up on someone you love" but it was over, and no matter how much I dreamt of her, no matter how much someone mentions her name because I call on her in my sleep, I could never go back. I love her so much, but her words are law, and she will never take me back.

That night, I tried daydreaming, she appeared. I looked the other way, but she would always appear right before me. She would never understand, and if she did, she would tell me "it did not work out". I lost it. I held my face, pulled my hair, and cried my eyes out, begging me to forget her and to move on. She was poison to my happiness, the reason the cracks in my heart never healed, and I was so tired to get up and take sleeping pills. I felt restrained to my bed as reels of memories of her playing in front of my eyes no matter where I looked. I saw her, her smile, her body, and heard her voice. I was obsessed, I wanted to see her, I wanted her back, but I held back. I cried myself to sleep, an agony I wish was over. She will never read this, she will never see or know how I am or how I still feel about her. When we were one, the world was worth living in, but I would have given it up to her. She gave me what I needed the most in this dark world of mine, and all I wanted to do was return the favor. I believed in her, I trusted her, I worshipped her as she saved me from myself. It was over because she couldn't trust me, she doubted me. No matter how high I lift her up, she started to doubt me. When it was over, I cried a bit and thought I could shake it off, but then the dreams started, everything I felt became the weight of the world crashing down on me, and I had no idea how deeply in love I was in.

The biggest mistake in all this was that we were young at the time, we both had our own troubles, our own abusive families, and our own flaws. We just couldn't trust each other in the end. She couldn't trust me because of the many fowl men she dated, and I couldn't trust her because we were still young. Though the evidence was right in front of me, she didn't like one bit of it. I could give her the whole world, yet she chose to cheat on me. The worse part is how I can easily forgive her, or maybe it's that I can't forget her. This desire for her has a serious effect on me: I can't write about love.

In that same show, a woman was heard singing. Her words now etched in my head: "I can't remember love, but I can remember you". My love for her was like a child's love for his mother, white and honest. Whenever I needed someone, it would be her, whenever I liked someone, it would be her, and they asked this big question to her which was: "what do men think is more important than marriage?" which I immediately answered with her name and she was confused while I was just a dope.

"I mean, I can't have a marriage without you."

I don't believe in marriage, the reason being: it's not enough. I'd give her my will of my soul for all eternity if I could, enslave myself for her and only her, but marriage was just not enough. However, I told her she would look amazing in a bride's dress, and if she ever wanted to marry, I'd be the world's greatest sucker to those wedding planners and make her a god damn princess. I wanted to be who she needed me to be. I was all hers, every breath I took, every step or second I had was all hers. No one could take me away from her. We left a very difficult way, but if it were better, maybe I would even show her how much I loved her far apart without suffering from it. My world is in ruins, neglected and destroyed. I'd kiss her hand and hold her tight for just one last day of my life. If I could forever forget her, I'd take one good look at her, with my loving, terrified eyes, bite my tongue to prevent me from begging, and say with my very last breath: "I love you."

When she left she separated me into three: mind, body, and soul. The mind dreams of her, the body yearns for her and the soul remains faithful. No matter who comes into my life, she is the only person I think about wanting. It doesn't matter if it's a model, I will always have these strong feelings for her. If life erased my memories of her, she shouldn't be amazed if it didn't work. It's just proof when I promised her: "someone has to love you". Even those with so much love die alone. If I ever face death alone, I at least want to write about it. Write about the love I wish I had, or about love itself. I want to live the life my young self was living when it was just him and an iPod's notepad. Writing about life, creating different worlds, and escaping the cruel reality.