Broken strings & Pretty things

The world, seen through a young girl's eyes.

Archive for the month “March, 2013”

Never.

I think the worst thing of all was that I never wrote about you. Ever.
Often you asked about this blog, yet never intruded and asked me to write about you, but I always felt like a liar. Because I could never summon myself to write about you. It didn’t feel true. It didn’t feel organic.
I never wrote in my scrapbook. In fact, there is a four-month gap missing.

And I wonder why. I wonder why that I never came home dancing around the room, dreaming of the night just passed. I wonder why I never hung on every word that you said. I wonder why I never shaped my dreams and future around some naive idea of you. I wonder why I never fully let myself go around you. I wonder why I never showed you the side of a woman who fearfully loves God.

Because, sometimes, I wake up and miss not having you there. I miss having someone to share life with. I miss having someone to hold and treasure and care. But, sometimes, I know that you were not the one. Perhaps I knew that from the very start. Because the very fact is, I never truly treasured you because you were never truly my treasure.
You were never mine to have, and I was never yours to hold.

I pray.

For you, I wish justice.

I pray that, one day, you will be blessed with the fairness only you truly deserve. That you will be able to wake up one day and know in your heart that life is on your side; that some people in life endure pain, no matter how undeserving they are. That you will be able to live the life that you so desperately desire, but keep hidden from everyone else. That you finally receive the love that you deserve. That you will one day experience a happiness that someone will never be able to take away. I pray that you will be able to look back with not bitterness, but sweet gratitude.

 

For you, I wish enlightenment.

I pray that you will understand that life is beautiful. I pray that you learn to trust someone, and know that they won’t hurt you. That you don’t resort to being cold and distant because it is the easy option, but be warm and open and loving. I pray that you won’t have to push people away that finally break through your walls and make you realise who you are. I pray that you will stop believing that life is painful and lacklustre and impossible. I pray that you finally discover a meaning; a hope; a joy.

 

For you, I wish courage.

I pray that you will be able to finally hold your head high and know just how magnificent you are. That you will finally give yourself credit and let yourself believe that you really can move mountains. I pray for realisation. I pray that you have the boldness and tell the world ‘here I am!’ I pray that you no longer compare yourself to people who you think are braver, smarter or more beautiful. That your realise that you are the very best and no one needs to be the one who tells you that. I pray for the end of self-consciousness and for the beginning of self-joy.
Because, the world sees how amazing you are, it’s time for you to see it too.

 

For you, I wish love. Just pure love.

I wish that you would just wake up and see the smiling faces before you. I pray that you understand just how many lives you shape. That you fully comprehend just how adored you are. I yearn from the bottom of my heart that you hear the words ‘I love you’ and not just accept them, but believe them. That you will be able to walk down the street not feeling like it’s an uphill battle. I pray that you don’t dread that car ride home.
I pray you realise just how much you mean to me, and your brother, and everyone else around you.

 

I will wait.

I will wait for you, because I know that you are good enough.
Because, as one beautifully wise woman wrote, waiting is not passive, but an active choice. Waiting is making that commitment to yourself every day, knowing that you are out there somewhere, between the misfits and the Mr Not-Quite-Perfects.

Waiting means allowing myself to become content in the moments of loneliness. Waiting means being happy listening to my friends adorning their boyfriends, and it means knowing that one day I’ll feel the same.
Waiting means having the self-control and perseverance to not let myself be swept away by a crooked smile and an easy option. It means not letting myself choose comfort over compatibility.
Waiting means making the harder, and much more difficult choice. It means allowing God to take center stage of my life, and letting Him know when it is right.
Waiting means being patient, and eager and loving.

Waiting means no more mistakes.

Because, when I meet you, it will all be clear. The years of eagerly awaiting finally will come to a climatic rush to realise that this one will not be another miss match. It will mean not having to suffer the darker side of someone’s heart, and it will be the joy and enchantment of knowing something was worth the wait.

Because you will encourage me to grow. We will create sufficient space in our relationship for us to grow, yet allow ourselves to help each other. You will take me on long walks, and picnics, and lie under the stars and not complain about the chill in the air. You will be the gentleman I have always hoped for. You will be charming and forgiving and whisper ‘I was so enchanted to meet you.’
And I will make mistakes. Countless times. And so will you, but that will be okay.

Because with you, it will not be half-hearted, nor will it be unrequited.
So I will wait.

Because you are worth the wait. Wherever you may be.
Whoever you may be.

Possibility.

That’s the thing about love — it’s full of possibilities. It can lead you down so many different paths. Sure, for some of us, it can lead to sadness and regret. But, for others, well, for others it can lead them to the greatest future they could’ve ever hoped for. Love is the most possible thing in the world.

-Melissa Brown

5752365589_7344df3c70_z

Destiny.

I’m going to be a history maker in this land.
I’m going to be a speaker of truth to all mankind
I’m going to stand, and I’m going run into your arms.
Into your arms again.

-Delirious

I know that my life was not made for conformity. I believe in You, and know that You will take me to the ends of the world.
With You, I can help change this broken world.

For you.

I know that you still read this blog, and I know that you try to find the answers of what went wrong through the things that I write on here. I know that you wonder if it’s you that I’m writing about. I know that you wonder what I actually think about everything.
It’s been a long time since we have spoken, and most of the time I wonder if there is anything left to say.
But, honey, these are the words that are left; the answers to the puzzle piece in your mind; your way to leave the labyrinth.
What went wrong a year today.

Firstly, I do remember. I remember the wonderful moments where I first realised how beautiful love is. I remember the things that you said, and the things that you did which made my heart sing. It took me a long time to go back to that place, when pain from everything you did afterwards clouded any ounce of happiness I received from you. At one small point, I remembered why I fell in love with you, and why I didn’t listen to everyone that told me not to.

But equally I remember the moments where I lay in bed at night feeling like I couldn’t escape. I remember the lies and the deceit and the confusion you put upon me. I remember the arrogance and insolence and audacity. Though I may forgive you, I still remember what you did; just how far you went to hurt me, and how happy you were when you accomplished it.

But darling, I really do owe a lot to you, because losing you was the day where I gained everything.
Losing you engendered freedom and liberty and self-worth. I realised the true meaning of a relationship, and that my happiness shouldn’t constantly be put on hold for someone who doesn’t deserve it. However, I also thank you for being my first love; the person who opened my eyes to that blissful ignorance, and the person who showed me the worst of holding onto a person too dearly.

And I’m so happy that you’re moving on, dear. I’m so happy to see you smiling and looking at someone like you once looked at me. You will make her happy if you try. You will make her fall in love with you, like I did, if you stop taking that second to see if anyone cares. Don’t be the two different people who you and I both know. Stop being the person that you hate to be, but only continue to be as he’s strong enough to pretend he doesn’t care what people think.  Don’t hide behind that mask of nonchalance, and show your true vulnerability. Stop trying to be what other people expect of you, because the real you is much more beautiful.
Don’t break her like you broke me. Don’t let your own insecurities be the thing that prevents you from moving forward.
Just let go, for one more time in your life, and don’t think that it’s not worth it. Don’t make the mistake you made with me. You will be the person you want to be. You Will.

Be the person that I once fell hopelessly in love with.
Please, just be you.

Finality.

From the beginning, I saw the end.
I always knew it would be that way; I always knew it was coming, but I ignored it. I saw the imperfections, and rather than avoiding it, I let time play out until we reached the end of the tunnel: until it was time for it to end.

There are some things in life which we know will never be good for us, but we choose to pursue them nonetheless. And you were that very thing.
The time I brought breakfast round to your house, I knew that I shouldn’t have gotten on that train. I knew that I shouldn’t have let this story unfold; shouldn’t have let our lips touch. I shouldn’t have let desire proceed responsibility.

I shouldn’t have let my heart go, when I knew it was only half that I was going to part with.
I should have read the signs and known that this just wasn’t the time.

I’m so sorry.

I remember. (2)

I remember crying when I was thirteen because I was so scared of the unending cycle of life. I couldn’t bear to think that life had no meaning, no colour and no change. To an extent, I’m still very much the same. I still don’t like to colour inside the lines. But instead of crying, I use it as inspiration: motivation to break the boundaries of life and flee from any mudaneness of greyness or conformity. I once felt so helpless, yet now I feel so limitless.

I remember the day everything changed when you walked away. I remember seeing nothing but grey for days on end, and feeling but the dagger of a double-edged sword, only to be slowly and silently replaced by the cold numbness. I remember not being able to be alone for the tiniest moment, yet not being able to say one word to anyone in the fear that I would break down all again for the thirteenth time that day. It was a hard time, and at some points it felt that I couldn’t escape, but I made it. I looked to the future and saw the end. And it felt wonderful.

I remember the day I was told by a girl that she could never judge me. I had been in such a dark and shameful and guilty place, yet hearing those five words broke any shackles that once held me to my former past. It was probably one of the best things someone has ever said to me.

I remember preaching in front of a large crowd for the first time at the age of sixteen. I remember not being scared to let myself down, but to let God down. But little did I realise, He was smiling down at me all through the fifteen minute talk. I made him proud.

I remember meeting a boy in September and thinking that he was Mr. Perfect. I remember letting him taking me for long road trips and playing cards and eating cookies and thinking that nothing could get better than him. I remember finally feeling like I deserved something; that I deserved someone. It turns out that he wasn’t perfect. It turns out that he did disappoint me. But the most wonderful thing was that, for the first time, I did not lose my self-worth. Though there doesn’t go a week without me thinking of him, I don’t hold grudges: he set me free.

I remember my brother telling me that he was proud of me for the first time. That was also the first time that I had ever been proud of any of my accomplishments.

I remember calling my best friend and telling her that my father had left me. She cried. I cried. We both told each other how much we loved each other. I then remember breaking down to my boyfriend when I tried to explain why she means so much to me. All I remember is her always being there: every step of the way.

I remember so vividly and wildly. I remember being wrapped up in my mother’s arms, and I remember wanting to escape from her. I remember days that I wished would never end and I remember days which seemed to last for an eternity. I remember being in love and I remember being heartbroken. Yet I never look back on a memory and wish for it to vanquish:there’s a reason why our brains choose to remember things, though the reason for this is not always clear.
Memories are wonderful things, because they shape us. They cause us to learn, and to grow, and to become better. Memories are the souvenir we are left with once the moment has passed. Memories are the one thing that we are left with when all else is gone, and perhaps, that is one of the most tragically beautiful things about them.

All for You.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your piece.
Where there is hatred, let me bring love. Where there is pain, pardon; Where there is doubt, faith; Where there is despair, hope; Where there is darkness, light; And where there is sadness, joy.

Tears.

Seeing you cry today broke my heart, not only because it was the first time that it had ever happened, but because I knew that I can never understand just how badly it hurts; just how badly it always will.
But darling, please never think you are weak for crying when it gets tough. Please don’t think that you’re letting your mother down for not staying strong. Please don’t feel like you can’t talk about her in fear of breaking down all over again. Because, honey, that’s what we’re here for. We love you more than anything.

We know that she would be so proud of you. We know that you are the kindest, happiest and most beautiful young woman who has ever walked the earth. She knew that too. We know that though she may not be able to hold your hand every step of the way, she is there with you every moment. And she is smiling down at you, so proud to know that you are her daughter. At the breaking of every dawn, she is watching, and at the setting of the sun, she is still there.
She loves you, and always will.

Though the pain may never fully go away, I know that you will one day have the strength to read all of her letters; the strength to visit her and lay down those flowers; the strength to finally talk about her to your grandparents. You are not weak for having wounds that are still open after five years. I promise you that there has never been any more reason to cry than now.

I find it is always the people who have had their heart broken countless times are the people whose heart is the purest. Because I have never met anyone as selfless as you. You could be cold, or hateful or introvert, but instead of inflicting your pain on anyone else, you try to wipe away every tear.
Words do not describe the strength you have.

Just remember that I love you, we love you, and most of all, she loves you.
And she has had a wonderful birthday, from wherever she is.

Post Navigation