Again, with the depression shit.

Yes, yes. I've neglected this blog for a while.

Reason being: life's been dull and hectic at the same time.

No. Actually it was not...but recently I kinda ruined it again.

Just because we have thoughts and feelings, just because we need to talk to someone, release the frustration, just to be able to sleep, I don't know.

I regret it all.

Regrets. This regret will forever be the worst one yet.

I don't even know how to articulate it into words.
I hate words now. Writing. Everything I used to enjoy, it's hard to enjoy.

Signs of depression, yes.

I'm not gonna lie, I've been battling depression and suicidal thoughts for months now.
Battling? Well, yeah. It's a battle. It's a war.

Years, I've been really unhappy with life.
Deep down inside, I know I was never happy.

And when I finally felt 'happy', being hurt by this 'happy', being neglected by this 'happy', it broke me down.
More than anything ever.

Maybe it's because I've let myself out in the open to be hurt.

Some call this love, some call this infatuation: I call it obsession.
Yes, I finally realized it.

I love this person, but I know deep inside that this isn't how 'love' is supposed to be like.

If this is really 'love', then I don't want part of it once I leave it.

But somehow, I can't help but cling onto it.
I don't know. He's told me many times.
The things he said, hurtful ones, sweet ones, I listen to them, as if they're God's words.

More like the Devil's words.

I don't know why I put him so high up, clinging onto him.
I don't know.

But it's so easy to break the bond we had. He did so. Easily. Running away.

It makes me want to cry.

Heck. I just cried.

I don't know.
He's trying to make me a better person.
I appreciate that.

Just because of that, I can't talk crap about him.
Other than frustrations, whenever I try to release some of them through friends, they just assume he's the bad one. You forget that it's not like I tell you all the things between us.

I don't tell everything, so what makes it your job to try and fix it?
It's supposed to be between us both. And we can try and fix it.

If he ever wanted to try, that is.
I always tried.

He assumes, I assume.
And we clash.

I assume this, he'd assume that.
It's bound to clash.

I love my friends, but when I talk to them about him, I can't help but feel that all they want is just to put this person that I love, care about, down to the ground and just put him on a pedestal of guilt.

There are times where I just want to opt out of continuing the conversation because they talk about him, bash him like he's not human.

He is.
And he makes mistakes.

Yes, this has happened more than once, but because of that, I know how he'd react when people meddle.
I never wanted people to meddle.

I just wanted an outlet to talk to someone.

Now I learn that I rather talk to my sister about it.
Verbal conversations are always better for therapy.

I try my best to keep it between us two, yes.
But it's hard when he doesn't want to talk.
Granted, I ramble a lot, I rant, I can't speak straightforwardly.

He's guilty of that too, he talks to me in riddles.
I know I'm supposedly smart but when you write in riddles in a very incomprehensible way, even native speakers would be like 'wtf'.

Yes, maybe we're incompatible.
Yes, this might not last forever.

But at least, I thought, the bond we have, even as exes, we can be comfortable as friends.

At first I was reluctant to let go.
I still am.

But I know it's so unhealthy.
This 'relationship' we have. Or had.

But then, why does it matter to me.
That I should put a label on us.

No. It was fine that way. Without the label.

But my inner voice told me many times, 'Religiously, this is wrong. Just keep asking him about 'us''

But I was okay with what we had.

Slowly, I was losing that feeling.
He already did. That's what I assume.

But I was slowly working myself out of this thread. This messy red thread.
It may have just been a white thread, painted red...and it was slowly becoming pink.

But then that voice won and it all broke down.

The thread just broke. But I was still tangled.

Why does it hurt me so much?
No, not because I love him

No, it's more to how he treated our friendship.

Maybe he doesn't even want friends.

Now I'm just in this messy pink thread. Dyed red at some parts, and already white at some.

And slowly, it's getting harder to breathe.

The more I try to force myself out of it, the more it's choking me.

We always had communication problems.
He calls me a pessimist.
I am.
But he is too.

I'm a pessimist, but I'm an optimist when it comes to us.
It's stupid, I know.

I wish he'd read this, but he hates reading. I know that.
So I'm just writing this, with a small hope that he'd read it.
Empty dreams.

Wishful thinking.

He knows I'm a dreamer.
But in my dreams, I am a realist.

When I try to make something work, it usually works.

I don't mind the pain. I don't mind the hurt.
But the difference is: He doesn't want to be the one causing the hurt.

You probably won't read this, A.
But well, just so you know.

I don't tell you everything.
So technically, the belief that you know everything about me, well, drop it.

It's not true.

Even I don't really know what I am exactly.
Just like you, I mold myself into others.

Maybe that's why we clash.

I can be anything you want, really.
That's how I am.

But then, that part that's been with me for years.
That darkness.

Akin to the one you have.

This darkness.

If I followed my darkest instincts, it would be to stab your heart, take it out.
Preserve it.

Because I believe that it used to love me back.

But I can't kill you.
I rather you kill me.

So that my heart that has feelings for you would stop pining for you.

It may have stopped wanting you.

But it doesn't want to break the bond of friendship.
You're far too precious.

But then, you have many other friends that can replace me.

Unlike me.
I don't have many friends.

Family, friends, lovers.

In the end, they'll leave you anyway.

So I always put that thought that I rather die, than have them leave me.
Ever since I was small.

That being said.
I want a child I can love.

A child I can cherish.

In truth.
I don't think I have any friends.

I'm always alone.

Maybe because I don't want any friends.

Knowing that they'll cause me hurt too.

.....I'm always alone.

-Nisah-