I Really Liked You

And so the fairy-tale romance
that we had has
come to an
End.

Fleeting, short-lived
Filled with:
Doubts
Worries
Mistakes.

You once said that
your love for me was
Infinite.
Tell me,
Does it still hold
True?

We may be apart,
and the love has
Forsaken us,
but to me,
that will always be

True.

Selfish Desires

Please, just put up with my selfish requests a little longer.
Soon, you can forget me.
Soon, my existence won't matter.
So at least for now, put me at the top.

Just a little longer and we'll part ways forever.
Although you mean the world to me,
It's positive that I'm just... There in your mind.
Tell me, did I ever make a dent in you
Like you did to me?

Now, we won't see each other each day anymore.
Every day conversations won't be "every day."
We'll never ask each other for help anymore.
You'll forget about me.
And I'll hopefully forget about you, too.
Although I say that, it isn't actually true.

I'll never forget about you.
You've left too much of an impression on me,
And it's a shame you'll never know that.
I liked you far too much.
And you never felt the same.
I was a nuisance to you, wasn't I?
I'm so sorry.

Just a little more...
And it will be our goodbye.
I won't miss you.
I will forget you.
We'll talk someday.
Although those will be the complete truth for you,
I'm the exact opposite.

My final selfish desire
Is for you to be free.
Be happy.
Thank you for putting up with me.

Gone

I once knew a girl.
She was perfect - her kindness could light up the night sky.
But she went away one day, to a land far, far away.
Now a monster is in her place.
I don't know where she's at now,
But if she's somewhere to be found,
Please come out.

Mourning Day

{I was visiting my Grandfather's tombstone last weekend and I saw my Grandmother crouching before it, telling him of what has happened thus far, that his children were there to see him, and that his grandchildren were there to greet him.

It was a sad sight. ;-;;.

To my right, there was a woman who kept crying in front of someone's grave, and to my left there was a guy playing music in front of someone's grave. While the girl kept crying, the guy just sat there, enjoying the time he "spent" with the person that had died.

I just. It was so sad. OTL}

The times that have passed
And the memories we shared,
I'll treasure them.

The tears that are wept
Will be a precious reminder of the love I've felt.
May you always be able to tell.

Until next time, I'll keep our memories
Stored away, and from time to time,
I'll relive each tiny bit.
Yes, both the good and the bad
Will be played over and over again in my head.

For death is just another obstacle in life
And although it may derail us,
We will meet again.

Fifteen.

{Guys it's exactly 1:10am and I'm still not done with homework. : ). Brb shooting self----. Anyways... I'm so tired. ;-;. I just want to sleepppp. And I really don't want to go to school this week. Or next week. Or any week. ; 3;. Here, have a story I wrote for another website.  /sobs. OH. Someone please tell me: Why is writing about "love" so... Easy? Lolol, I've been trying to refrain from using that as a topic but I find it as one of the easiest go-to subjects to write about... OH WELL BACK TO DOING A STUDY GUIDE ON OSMOSIS AND DIFFUSION YEAH!}

   "Mom, did you ever... Like anyone when you were fifteen?"

   "Who hasn't? Come to think of it... You're turning fifteen tomorrow, aren't you? You'll be at the age when my first love ended!" Chuckling, she added, "Honestly, I wouldn't be the same if that didn't happen to me then."

   The woman reminisced about her teenage years, remembering the sights, sounds, and smells she encountered during her years as a student. Looking at her bright-eyed daughter who was still so pure and innocent, seeming as if she had never gotten hurt before, the woman suddenly saw herself in her child. Not only were the facial features similar, but the air the child gave off, it was very much like the feeling the woman gave off years before - a gentle, kind presence that didn't know the meaning of heartbreak. 

   "Would you like to hear how my first love ended?" The woman asked.

   The child smiled, full of curiosity and wonder as to what her mother was like and who she loved when she was a teenager. Slowly the woman smiled, the answer evident on the child's face. It was clear to her that her daughter wanted to know of the past, and more about her mother.

   "Alright! This might be a long one though, so try to stay awake! It all started when I was fourteen..." The woman's voice grew warmer, and she closed her eyes to relive her memories.

   "My first love wasn't like any other boy. He was clumsy, a coward, and didn't have any aspects that made him stand out from the crowd. Maybe that's why I liked him. Seeing boys that were perfect all day from the television and magazines, I guess I felt that 'perfect' boys were just... Too ordinary? They lost their appeal once I noticed that most of them had rotten personalities. This man however... He was different. He was genuinely nice to everyone he met, even the ones who picked on him. Those types of boys are rare, I tell you! Compared to your father, this man was a lot nicer. I met him through my school's Writing Club. In each club, there will always be at least one person who sits alone in the corner and doesn't interact with people and... He was that one person. I remember when I first met him, he had his head buried in his journal, jotting down whatever he could think of. His dark brown, shaggy hair covered his eyes - I later found out he had the most beautiful, green eyes I had ever seen - and I didn't like him at all. He was a freak; he had friends but they were all very... Odd. Needless to say, I avoided him at the beginning of Writing Club. The only reason I started talking to him was because I had the chance to read what he wrote. His writing style was uncanny. It was sad, yet happy. Warm, but cold. It showed how he depicted things through his eyes. It told us of just how much he enjoyed life; although the things in between hurt him, he would always write about how he loved that part of life too. He saw the world from a different perspective; he was neither an optimist nor a pessimist. The moment I read his stories, I was captured. Soon after, I started to talk to him more, and I finally got to know the boy with the green eyes. Turns out, he wasn't as weird as I had perceived. He was just quiet and shy. In my mind, he was that antisocial kid who thought high school was a bore and just wanted out of it. But in the end, he wasn't like that in the slightest - he loved school and the thought of making friends. We started talking more during the club and school day. It even got to the point where the two of us would walk home together! I fell in love with his personality and I wanted so desperately to tell him... But I couldn't. I was so afraid that he wouldn't like me back or that our relationship would be broken. Instead of confronting my fears like I should had done, I ended up succumbing to them and keeping my relationship with him the same. Summer vacation was right around the corner and at that point, we were inseparable. I remember on the day of my fifteenth birthday, the two of us had planned to meet up the weekend school ended on Saturday at three in the afternoon. I was elated. This would have been our first 'date' together! The few days before our meeting I coordinated my outfit multiple times; I just couldn't find the right outfit to wear. Finally, I decided on a simple white dress that reminded me of him - he was pure, just like the colour white. I arrived at the meeting spot half an hour early, hoping to impress him when he showed up. As the time drew closer to three, my heart began to pound, the pounds gaining speed as the minute hand ticked toward the twelve. It was finally three!

   3:10pm. 

   3:20pm. 

   3:30pm. 

   3:40pm. 

   3:50pm. 

   4:00pm.

   I waited for an hour, holding on to the last bit of hope I could, just wondering when he would arrive. Still, I kept waiting for him, eventually waiting for two hours for him to come. 

   He never did.

   I was hurt. It couldn't have been possible for him to forget our plan so easily, was it? It wasn't that long since school was over; school only ended just three days prior. That day, I experienced firsthand how it felt to be stood up. Dejected, I walked home, my head down low. As soon as I stepped into my house and walked into my room, I cried. It was a petty reason to cry, but it was still a reason. The rest of the summer flew by without me talking to him again.

   Once school started, I still couldn't get over him. I looked for him around campus and in Writing Club, but he was nowhere to be found. None of his friends could tell me where he was either. He just... Disappeared. It was as if he was carried away by the wind. Knowing me, I don't take no for an answer. I never did, and I never will. That day, I walked to his house, hoping to see where he was. Once I got there I was greeted by his mother who... Aged a lot. Just a few months earlier she was very animated despite her age and now... Her head was covered in grey hairs and he body seemed too frail. She was like a twig; I was afraid that if I put any pressure on her she would snap in half. Thankfully she remembered me - it would have been awkward if she forgot! She invited me in and made me my favourite tea, Early Grey. We chatted, and for a second, her expression brightened. A smile crept onto her face and I finally saw the woman she once was before summer vacation came. After a while, I decided to ask her about him and where he was and... That's when things took a turn for the worse. Her expression dropped and it seemed like she was near tears. And that was when I found out why he couldn't meet me that Saturday afternoon. He was crossing the street when a driver crossed a red light and hit him. He died that day."

   Tears began to fall from the woman's eyes. She bit her lip, hoping to suppress them. However, the more she tried, the easier it was for them to fall. At that point, she couldn't stop. The tears kept falling, almost as if to make up for the time she lost not crying. Recollecting her thoughts, the woman continued on with her story, the tears still rolling down her cheeks.

   "I was shocked... Honestly. His mother didn't blame me at all despite the fact that he was going to meet me. Although she accepted his death she still couldn't handle the fact that she outlived her own child. If you died before me, I wouldn't know what to do. The shock was too much for me. At the time, I couldn't cry because the thought that he was dead was far too great for my mind to comprehend. I suddenly felt the urge to leave the house, but before I could reach the door, his mother stopped me. She told me to wait a few minutes while she went to get something. When she came back, she handed me a box. She told me that her son wanted to give me that on the day he died and that I should take it. I accepted the gift from her hands and said my goodbyes, as well as my apology for bringing up a painful memory, and with that, I ran toward my house. I rushed into my room, still dazed about what happened to him, and completely forgot about the box. When I finally realized that it was in my hand, I plucked all of my courage and opened it carefully, making sure not to destroy it. Inside the box was a necklace. It had my favourite flower, the rose, in my favourite colour, mint. I caressed it in my hand, and suddenly, the fact that he was dead hit me. I could never see him again. I could never talk to him again. Joke with him. Laugh with him. I couldn't do any of the things that were so normal between us again. He was gone."

   The woman stopped and wiped the excess water away from her eyes; she had stopped crying, but the tears weren't dry yet. Sucking in a deep breath, the woman finished off her story.

   "And that was how my first love ended. What do you think?" She looked at her daughter, who's eyes were rimmed with tears.

   "Is that really how it ends? There wasn't a happy ending to it?" The daughter replied, sniffling.

   "Unfortunately, yes. You see... Sometimes there are no happy endings. Unlike the characters in the stories society gives you, life doesn't offer happy endings. Sometimes, life won't work out like how we want it to, and sometimes, it will. Although my first love didn't have an amazing ending, I have one now. I have you, and I have your father. You two make up my 'happy ending'. Like I said before, if I hadn't met my first love or experienced the things I did back then, I would have never been able to become the person I am today. This may be hard to understand at your age, but I promise, in the future, you'll understand everything."

   The woman smiled at her daughter and arose from her seat. Walking towards the kitchen, she played with her rose-shaped pendant necklace, rolling it around in her fingers.

   "Honey, I'm making tea now. Would you like any? I'm sure that after that story you'd like to have something refreshing."

   "What kind?" Asked the daughter, peaking her head out of the top of the couch. 

   The woman let out a soft chuckle and replied, "Early Grey Tea."

Bullying.

{NBEFORE: "Did this happen to you?" No, it didn't; I had tried to write in that perspective. ;-;. ANYWAYS... I hate my phone. I was in the middle of writing this, and then it deleted all of the stanzas I had  so far. -____-}

You were so strong, so kind, so caring.
Nothing in the world could possibly stop you.
You were invincible.
Yet... Even the strongest of the strong crumbles.

Each day was a war;
Every struggle created by /them/ in order to
Satisfy their fun and fulfill them of their needs.
Inflicting many taunts, many jokes, so many struggles...
Life was a living hell each day wasn't it?

Others ignored your desperate cries for help
In fear that they would be next.
Your screams, echoing loud and clear, were
Swept aside, dying out as your voice grew hoarse and your throat burned.
Only your dreams brought salvation.

Adults won't listen, brushing it off as a cry for attention.
The faculty wants the best school; complaints of bullying won't cut it.
Suddenly, no adult seems... Trustworthy.

Frustrated over everything,
The bullies, the people who ignored your cries,
The adults who chose not to get involved, you wanted it all over.
You took your life.
And now, it is all over.
As Homer once said,
"Now he sleeps at peace forgetful of what he has suffered."

Now everyones eyes are opened.
They see just how bad society was to you,
And now fingers are pointed to just who is at fault.
But... Why must this be seen only after your death?
Why were they so oblivious to your situation even though
They watched it all happen each day?
Why does no one act as the perpetrator, but instead the victim?
Can't they tell they are all at fault?

Although I knew that had happened to you,
I chose to look into the future, ignoring your talk on it... Like the others.
I'm no better than everyone else huh?
I'm sorry.

Words Never Whispered.

{My father died about a year ago. I thought that given the time, I had gotten over it, but I guess not? I'm not quite sure what happened... I just started crying at around 3:30am because of those memories. But I do know one thing: I regret not spending enough time with him. Part of it was because he worked constantly, and another part was because I was still a child; in my childish mind I thought he would never leave, even though I feared death because it had the power to take away my loved ones ever since I was five.}

I built myself to be so strong,
So indestructible under any circumstance.
Yet... Only one memory of you is
Enough to tear me apart.

We weren't close; in fact,
We were rather distanced.
Our conversations were neither
Deep nor meaningful - they were just...
Conversing placed between us.
Back then they were nothing, a daily occurence.
Yet now I hold them valuable,
Praying to never forget them.
If only I treasured them more back then.

The memories I have of you,
So strong yet weak to a certain extent,
Wise beyond your years, yet holding a child-like ease,
Are fleeting away from me.
No longer can I immediately think of your voice, your laugh...
I can only imitate it with uncertainty.

The photos of us together, less than a handful,
Are lost. Why did I not think of taking any?
Why was I so oblivious to this, only recognizing the want to now?

Why weren't we closer?
Was it because you were a workaholic, hoping to gain a better
Life for your children that you pushed us all away?
Or was it because I was a child you regret?
We had our moments, but I just wish there was more.

"I miss you, I love you.
Have a good day.
Good morning, good night."
Simple phrases that I miss saying... To you.
What onced seemed like a ritual is now
A want, a desire to be done.
I wish you could hear me, see me.
Then I could tell you all the things I had wanted to say,
All the things I keep bottled up, trapped, inside, me.
But now that can never be.
Now I can never say these words to you,
No matter how hard I try.

The End.

{Bored strikes again~. If this character were real, I feel as if I wouldn't necessarily like her. xD}

And there you were, walking away.
Instead of catching up, instead of
Taking your hand and rushing to your side,
I watched you walk away from me, from us.
And at that moment, I realized that
I truly loved you, and that you walking away marked
The end.

Shaken

{Honestly, the title was an autocorrect I got when I typed this out; I just typed random letters. xDD. This morning (or Saturday?) I had a dream that involved my father. In that dream, I seemed to be around 9 years old, and my father was there talking to me. Although everything was in mute, it still seemed like a nice talk with him. During the time I had with him in the dream, he had to pull my hair away to my right shoulder, decided to braid it, then left soon after. After such a long time without seeing him moving, I guess it could be counted as a good dream.}

A time when I was years younger,
Where you were healthier, stronger than before.
You and I talked about nothing.
It was a pleasant conversation,
One with smiles and laughs.
Suddenly, you took my hair, bringing it to the side,
Finally saying, "Why not?" in your usual tone.
Braiding my hair, you finished,
Leaving a messy side braid as a result.
Giving me one last smile, saying
One last thing, you got up from your crouch
And walked straight behind me, leaving me behind.
Even though I wanted to follow you,
Even though I tried my best to stand up,
I couldn't move. I was frozen in place.
Instead of following you and telling
You to take me with you, I sat there,
Crying for you to come back and pick me up.
Opening my eyes, I awoke from that dream,
Only to find my eyes wet with tears.
I smiled.

Goodbye

{Err, late Valentines Day surprise? For this, I decided to write in the viewpoint of the people who had their hearts broken on that day. I hope I got the feeling right though... Feedback is helpful!}

Blurry eyes, faded vision

Hearts are broken

Loves are lost

Time is wasted on one person

That only treats you as a friend.

Memories play with laughter around

Thoughts of our past suddenly show

And although my heart yearns for

Acceptance and love from

That one special person that

Unfortunately cannot be because

His heart is already taken by another.

At first my heart sank at the sound

Of YOUR happiness, but as soon as

The words kicked in I began to realize

That my time with you may have passed

And that our crushes for each other have

Ended.

As long as you are happy, then I am too,

Or so the people before us say.

Yet why is it that I can't help but feel

Unhappy for you during this time?

I may not be the best one around or

The happiest and energetic of the bunch but

I had hoped that in some way

I was able to fill you with happy memories

And moments of our time together.

Looking back, I realized

That although I was happy and filled with your smell,

A constant and refreshing drug of mine,

You were not as happy, not as carefree as when

You were with her.

Awkward and shy when with me,

But happy and outgoing when with the other.

You showed your true side more frequently.

Although I tried not to notice that change,

It has finally gotten to the point where I can

Ignore it no longer.

Because of that, this is

Goodbye.