It’s been long since I’ve written anything. After moving to London, my life took a dramatic turn. Unfortunately, not a pleasant one. I wrote lesser and chose to suffer in silence instead. Personally, I hit rock bottom. Going back home was not just about meeting family, but also an opportunity for me to renew myself and gain back the strength I’d lost. And I did. I made a conscious decision to be a stronger, wiser person and write more often because writing keeps me sane. For me, not writing can either be a wonderful thing or a sign that something’s terribly wrong. Sadly this time, it’s the latter. After that frightful night, I feel like I'm spiralling back into the same darkness again. I feel too numb to write. My heart’s heavy, eager to let it all out...but I don’t have the words.
Do you know how much you’re hurting me? If you care, then tell me so...please don’t pretend not to. Your cold, vicious words break my strong resolve every time. No matter how hard I try to be indifferent, pretend that you don’t matter...truth is I’m miserably in love with you and it isn’t in my power to undo it. I can’t tell you so because I’m scared that if I do, I’ll only give you the power to hurt me more. But is it that difficult to see?
As corny as it may be...there’s a famous dialogue from Notting Hill reeling in my head for the past few days...
I'm not as strong and cold as you think I am.