"When you make decisions, follow your heart and not your mind. For if your mind’s decision fails, you regret. But if your heart fails, you just smile and say, “Nice try.”"
Knew the signs
I was stupid for a while
And now I feel like a fool
My heart’s bruised
Was I ever loved by you?
Out of reach, so far
I never had your heart
We were never
Meant to be
If your heart is your home, then feelings are visitors. Sometimes their presence is expected, and other times they would pay you a surprise visit, but the question lies … for how long? Most of the time, your heart will be welcoming their arrival with open arms.Some feelings would drop by only for a mere moment, others stay a little bit longer, and if you’re unlucky, certain feelings will even permanently reside in the deepest core of your soul — overstaying their welcome, eventually taking up the space you have been saving for something life-changing and meaningful. They will consume everything you have and change everything that you are, and they will be the part of you that you never knew you needed. They will be that missing puzzle piece in your life that completes you in such a way that you can no longer imagine living life before them.
And that is it, you’re screwed. If the analogy is true, there is no eliminating the feelings that grow from within you, after all, how rude would it be to simply kick out a guest who pays you a visit? Even if you do, you would ruin everything you’ve had with this visitor especially if things do not end on good terms. Nothing good ever comes from trying to abruptly snap yourself out of a feeling that has gotten so strong.
Yes, you might have that false sense of freedom once you feel as though you have completely eliminated unnecessary emotional baggage with such haste, but how sure are you that they won’t recur?
Some say feelings that return are feelings that never left the first place, otherwise they would have just been temporary, like perhaps a crush you had on your classmate in high school. You were so infatuated back in the days, you felt as though it was the real deal and that it would have been impossible to get over them — then again, you eventually did.
Then comes that person from college who drove you equally crazy and beyond, whom you have mistaken for yet another infatuation. You thought the feelings would be gone the second you hold that roll of diploma in your hands, and you could think of nothing but starting your new career life as you flung that mortar board in mid-air. You thought you would have a one-track mind again just because you will no longer see that object of affection. Wrong.
What happens when you suddenly see this person again in a different phase of your life? Perhaps you end up working under the same organization, or worst still, you bump into them while they are on a vacation with their family — now happily married while you are still trying to figure out your life? Will you be able to leave the past behind and stay on platonic grounds with them? Or will you find yourself trying very hard to keep a straight face, lying to yourself that you are happy for them while in truth you are crumbling from the inside; stuffing your face with half your weight’s worth of ice cream later that night in your hotel room alone to drown your sorrows? If you find yourself reacting similarly to the latter, you’re a goner.
Your feelings have evolved into something so colossal, that it is now overpowering you. It wasn’t “just a crush” after all, it’s love! Agonizing, isn’t it? Especially with the fact that there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. After all these years, you thought you were finally over them, and then something shows up to prove you wrong.
Sometimes, the most trivial of things from your surroundings can be a trigger that brings back memories from the past, making your old scars bleed again. As much as you want to forget something or someone, sometimes there is just no effective way to do it. It can be a song that takes you back to a timeline when you were so smitten by a particular person, it was as if there was no tomorrow. There was only now, you lived in the moment and you wished it would never have to end; once you return to the current reality, you feel ashamed of yourself for living in the past.
“Live in the moment, because when time has passed, it will never return.” A piece of advice repeated but a broken record, nevertheless often subconsciously ignored anyway because people tend to hold on to the past so firmly that they tend to take the present time for granted, and at times they tend to forget that there is still a future ahead of them. Why? Simply because the future is scary and uncertain, while the past is so well-defined, much like a comfort zone to return to whenever things get messed up in the present. This is why it is so hard to move on.
So if we are not supposed to force ourselves to stop our own feelings, what are we to do? Ironically enough, the cliche “time heals” applies here, regardless of how overrated the relative concept of time is.There are just certain problems in life that you can never find a solution to, so you ought to resort to waiting instead. As pathetic as it may sound, you have to know when to stop pushing. Treat your feelings like your visitors, let them naturally come and go as they please.
There comes a moment in life where you just have to buckle up and sit back; let the universe take its own course and just enjoy the ride. What happens next? Time will tell. Let destiny surprise you. For all you know, you’re heading for the ride of your life.
— (via psych-facts)
The worst part is the uncertainty. Knowing for sure is brutal, but when it’s still possible you’re mistaken, the not-knowing makes you boil with asylum-grade madness. It literally feels like insanity—not trusting your own mind, wanting so much to be wrong, every raw suspicion like a stubborn paper cut between your fingers that you can’t for one second not feel. When it turns out to be exactly what you feared, you still can’t believe it, but there’s an odd relief. At least now you don’t have to wonder.
The possibility does not escape you that it was this dread itself that caused the very thing you dreaded to happen. A sick joke: whoever is more suspicious that the other person is keeping secrets is always the one who’s worse at holding things back. This time it’s you. The more you try not to give your fears away, the more they seep out of you. Insecurity begets new reasons to be insecure. You sort of watch yourself from a distance, about to say another thing that makes you look needy and weak. You don’t want to say it, but you just can’t stop, and part of you is filing away this moment of embraced victimhood so you can pull the memory up, post-mortem, and regret it again anew.
When you tell your friends you think it’s ending they say everything is fine, you’re worried about nothing. This is what friends do for you. This is what you do for them. When you tell them what seems off, they give you the most unrelentingly sunny way of looking at the situation, barely allowing for the possibility that you’re right. Against your better judgment you allow a temporary reprieve from the aching conviction that something is deeply wrong.
After a while, though, the transgressions become more obvious. Phone calls and texts go unreturned for far too long. It feels deliberate and cruel. You play the game of who can pretend not to care for the longest. You wonder if you’re the only one “playing.” Sex reverts back to the hard-fought culmination it was at the very beginning and you feel thankful every time, like you won a contest. Maybe it’s in one of these ever rarer intimate moments that you realize how wrong it is to feel so grateful. You are not delusional—you finally acknowledge that something is definitely, definitely wrong. You realize you’re supposed to end this, you’re actively being prodded to do so, but still you can’t stop. You physically cannot stop yourself from continuing this thing that is torturing you.
Partly it’s because you don’t like to lose. You don’t want to be the rejected one, marking a notch in the Visitors column of your own personal scorecard. Mostly, though, it’s because you’re in love. You love how this used to be, and refuse to accept that it can’t be that way again. Maybe if you are a perfect person from now on, you can unring the right bells; not so much fuse back together what’s broken as erase the suggestion that anything was ever broken at all.
It’s no use, though, because it’s not up to you. This distance, this elusiveness—these aren’t mistakes. The decision has already been made, and it’s only a matter of time. A question of who will actually say the words. The issue will be forced again and again until you can’t stand it any longer. Until then, you are dangling at somebody else’s whim and living in a present that’s already crystallized into amber.
Once it’s really happening, and you’re actually having the conversation, it’s almost perversely exciting. You want to scream out, “I knew it!” and call other people to tell them you were right. But even though you know you’re right, you won’t let it fully become real until the very last second. No. Because you can’t do it yourself. You can’t do what your pride demands you to do. No. You’d rather surrender that pride. You already have. Not because this staunch resistance to the obvious will reverse the end result, but because it will buy you just a little more time. Even though this is shattered and ruined, even though it’s clearly over, you have dug your heels in and you refuse to leave voluntarily. The script has been written and handed to you, and it’s your turn to speak, but you will never, ever be the one to say the words.