Book That You Can Never Read

You can read my words but you can’t really understand my sentences, you can’t understand why I paused after a certain sentence or why I ended a sentence with an exclamation mark rather than a full stop.

You can read my headlines but you won’t grasp what I’m trying to say, you won’t know if it’s a misleading headline or a headline that has nothing to do with what I’m truly trying to say. In other words, you can’t sum me up in one headline.

When I write about loving you, you’d think that I can’t sleep at night thinking about you, but the truth is, I write about a familiar feeling; a moment in time when life was wondrous and I was mesmerized. A feeling that struck me once before that I couldn’t forget.

I write about how you made me feel because I loved that feeling — not you.

When I write about missing you, I write about the person you used to be, the person you pretended you were or the person I thought you were. I write about whom I thought you were and the things you made me believe in. I miss the rush of emotions, the whopping smile on my face when I saw your name on my phone, the bright future that I painted in all my favorite colors and the moment I realized that I’m capable of loving unconditionally.

I write about missing everything about that phase but that doesn’t mean I want to call you or I want you back. Missing you serves as an inspiration not a final statement. You can translate my words into your language but it still won’t make sense because you and I speak in very different languages with totally different connotations. You can try to read between the lines but you’ll always find them blurry and murky because you interpret things according to how your mind operates and your mind is a maze.

My words are a reflection of me; they can be contradicting, they can be wise, they can be childish, they can be insane, they can be idealistic, they can be flawed, they can be harsh and they can be fragile. My words can be a lot of things but they will always be real. I’m an open book because I write about the finest details but you were never detail-oriented so you will never understand the depth of my words.

My book is open, you can flip through my pages or highlight my words but you will never be able to pin me down, because it takes more than reading from a distance to know me, it takes more than a few words to figure me out and it takes a lot more than reading to know my story but you never had the courage to finish the story till the end.

So you can read my book a thousand times but you still won’t be able to read me.

 

Advertisements

3 AM

It’s 3 am and the night still asks me about you and all I can do is ask the night to let me sleep and bring you in my dreams and maybe one of those nights my dream will come true and the night will stop asking me about you.

It’s at 3 am that the night hits me and asks me about you. It asks me how you’re doing and I still don’t have an answer. I like to believe that you’re fine but a part of me doesn’t really want you to be fine without me. The stars ask me if you still shine everywhere you go and if your smile still brightens up anyone’s day and I can’t help but say yes, because even if I haven’t seen you, I know that you’ll always shine even if it’s dark inside you. And sometimes the night and I wonder if you miss me and if you’re also looking out the window waiting for a miracle.

The moon asks me if I will ever forget you, and I can’t help but confess that I’ve learned to forget everything in the past but I couldn’t forget the way you made me feel, I tell the moon that I learned how to forget everyone who hurt me but I still haven’t learned how to forget you. And even the moon can’t forget you because it’s always full when I’m missing you. The skies ask me if I’ll ever reach out to you and I tell them that I’m scared of not getting a response but the truth is I’m scared more of getting a response, I’m scared of hearing your voice and I’m terrified of loving you again. And sometimes the skies make the night a little bit warmer when I think about you.

I wonder if the night will ever stop haunting me at 3 am to ask me about you. Sometimes I think the night is lonely and missing some company but then every time I bring someone else, the night gets colder and moon disappears.

I think I’m bound to spend my nights remembering you and there is nothing more I can do because the night was not made to be alone, the stars were not meant to shine above a broken heart and the moon was not meant to hide behind the clouds. The night craves love and intimacy, the night needs two souls bound together by its beauty, comforting each other from the troubles of the day.

And it’s the like the night conspired to keep me up until you’re back to me.

It’s 3 am and the night still asks me about you and all I can do is ask the night to let me sleep and bring you in my dreams and maybe one of those nights my dream will come true and the night will stop asking me about you.

You And I Are Each Other’s Star.

I like the way you make me feel. The way our bodies seem to know each other, the static that transfers in your touch, or the rush I get when I stare into your eyes. We’re connected like that, in strange and terrifying ways we can’t even explain. But we know. Somehow we just know.

When I was little boy, I believed in that human bodies were like stars, floating in this expanse of sky. Directionless. Bright. I believed that our lights would burn and burn and burn until we’d find the one whose brightness matched ours. And then we would set on fire and shoot across the sky together.

Sometimes I still believe that—that our souls are bigger than they seem, burning thousands of miles away from this ground we walk on. That we’re shining bright and beautiful, waiting for our fates to align, our bodies to crash into one another. Waiting for an explosion. And then we’d know it was love. We’d know.

I like that idea, that love is something we cannot define, but inherently understand. Like how our hearts subconsciously pump blood to the entirety of our bodies. Or how we breathe without thinking. You and I, we are like stars who crossed paths somewhere in this incredible expanse of galaxy. We’re burning, melting into one another. Growing bigger, brighter. We are filling the world with our light, getting ready to explode and flash across the sky in all our glory and grandeur. I’m ready for it.

Perhaps the path we orbit on will eventually change, perhaps we will shift to brighten other planets. But I can feel your warmth inside my heart, traveling like electricity through my cells.

I cannot find the right string of words to explain how I’m feeling, what this is, or who we are.

But it’s love.
I just know.

You’re Not Afraid Of The Future, You’re Afraid Of Repeating The Past.

Fear?

Most of us don’t have the courage to admit this, but life is very scary.

Fear is a necessary part of life. Our psyche depends on it to hold us together. Without fear, we die.

Surely, there must be some sort of logic to us being programmed with this unpleasant, nerve-racking experience. We fear because it has the ability to move us faster and further than any other emotion. It propels us into the inevitable future.

For some of us, fear causes us to search, to create, build and connect. For others, it causes us to lash out, maim and destroy. Others still decide they can out run or hide from it, only to spend their lives living in it.

Fear shapes your life more than anything else. Your fears mark the points at which you either faced and overcame what you feared, or you didn’t. They either mark a turn onto the next path or the moment when you missed an exit. In the end, they draw out the map of your life.

One of the things we fear the most is the future. We don’t know what it holds, and worse yet, there is no possible way of knowing. It’s the unknown, the mysterious.

But that’s not what we fear the most. Because when it comes to the mysterious and the unknown, there is a chance there’s a monster roaming around in the dark, but there is also a chance there are butterflies and rainbows.

So no, it isn’t really the future you fear. What scares the crap out of you is your past.

While the future is, at least to us, unwritten, the past has been set in stone. There’s no undoing what’s been done. There’s no changing the things you wish you could change. You have no choice but to live with the past you created for yourself, and no choice but to accept all the resulting consequences.

The past weighs heavily upon many of us. We often come to see it as a burden, something we must carry along with us everywhere we go. But that’s far from the truth.

The past was a point in time, an exit we either took or missed. It no longer exists, not as far as we’re concerned. You can let go of the past, because the truth is, you don’t need it.

Your life was set on this course, but it doesn’t need to stay on this course. The next exit is coming up. Your next fear is waiting to test you, waiting and hoping — yes, hoping — you overcome it. You have to understand you don’t fear harming yourself — you fear bettering yourself.

Don’t look at fear as something negative. Fear is meant to help you. So, fear your past. Let it move you. Allow it to make you try new things, to do things you never imagined. Let fear drive you towards something better, something that makes you happy.

But don’t bring your past into the future. You shouldn’t even be bringing it into the present. The present is a gift — the gift of being able to redirect your life and move towards a better future for yourself.

If you’re afraid of repeating the past, then don’t. That is, quite literally, all there is to it.

Today’s habits, the things we do, the choices we make, they are what make tomorrow an inevitability.

Life can be better. You can learn to turn fear into excitement. You can be driven, positive and happy. I swear you can. I don’t even know you, but at the same time I know you better than you know yourself. I know you can accomplish things you’ve never dreamed of before.

How do I know? Because you’re no different than me. So matter how much my past scares me, no matter how far away I may be from where I want to be, I’ll get to where I’m going. So will you.