Counting

Start counting cause this will be over soon.

Go back and count the days, messages, laughs, the cups of coffee and the places you went and everything in between.

You do that and try to forget.

Yeah, try.

On getting kicked in the heart

I had a really really bad day. The kind of day where I'm awkward and stuttering mess of hurried words and lack of control. This was a bad idea. Bad idea. Such a bad idea. The urge to run and hide behind my dad's back was so strong but you're not a child anymore. And one day you need to grow up and be mature and face people you don't want to face. But when would that happen to me, I don't know. I really don't know.

On Meeting Strangers

I know it has been a long time, but here I am, and I'm alive and okay.
Last Friday, I met someone I've met online since last October. The experience was both amazing and thrilling, I've never done such thing before.
Meeting someone who doesn't know someone I know, or even I worked with, or went to the same places I go to. I've always had this urge to talk to someone I don't know in a cafe or a restaurant and let them in and tell them stuff about me, then leave. And I finally got to do that.
May be I have a bad girl streak in me, but it didn't feel wrong.
Since my last breakup I had no friends. At all. They were all gone just like my ex. They took his side. And I was alone, and I haven't been alone or felt that much loneliness since a very long time.
So I used twitter to get me out of my depression. And I found solace in people I don't know who accepted me the way I am.
And I found that in meeting strangers that:
I'm not my past.
I'm not what my exes made me.
I'm not what my parents told me I am.
I'm new.
And the person in front of me is new as well.
He's not his past.
He's not what his life turned him into.
He's new.
And this made me happy. I made him happy and he did.
And this is what matters most.