I don’t need you, I want you.

it took me a long time to reach this place where being on my own doesn’t scare me. where silence feels peaceful, not lonely. i’ve spent enough time figuring out who i am, what i want, and how to build a life that doesn’t crumble when someone leaves. i know how to take care of myself. i know how to enjoy things alone, how to find happiness in small, ordinary moments. i’ve learned to depend on myself, to stand tall even when everything else falls apart. i don’t need anyone to complete me. i’ve already done the hard work of making myself whole. i can go through the days without needing anyone’s presence to feel okay. i can handle things, survive things, rebuild things all on my own. i’ve done it before, and i can do it again. 

so when i let you in, it’s not because i’m lonely or broken or searching for someone to fill a gap. it’s because i want you here. because something about you feels right, not as a missing piece, but as a choice. i let you in because i genuinely want to share what i’ve built, not because i can’t live without you. i want you to understand that if i choose you, it’s because i see something real. something steady. i’m not asking to be saved or completed. i’m asking to be seen, heard, and understood.

i need you to understand something, i didn’t let you in because i needed to. i let you in because i wanted to. there’s a difference. i’ve been on my own for a long time, long enough to learn how to stand on my own two feet. i know how to take care of myself, how to build my peace, how to survive without anyone holding my hand through it. i’ve had days where it was just me, figuring things out, fixing what broke, learning to be okay even when everything felt heavy. and i did it. i made it through. so please don’t ever think i need you to fill any empty space in me. i don’t. i don’t need you to fix me or make me whole. i already did that for myself. i can live just fine without anyone, truly, trust me, i can.

but i chose to let you in. that’s the thing. i didn’t do it because i couldn’t handle being alone. i did it because you felt like someone worth sharing my peace with. because i wanted you to see the world i built for myself, not to take it over, but to be part of it.

so when i reach for you, when i open up to you, know that it comes from want, not need. it means i trust you with something i’ve protected for a long time. and that’s not something i do easily. if i let you in, it’s because i see something real in you, something that makes me want to stay, even though i know i’d be perfectly fine if i didn’t.

Goodbye

June 19th, 2025

"He'd be better off dead", words that I never dared say out loud but I'd be lying if I said that such morbid thought never once crossed my mind. That thought had been sitting heavy in my chest for a long time, it made my heart clench with immense guilt, but heaven knew I was never wishing harm. I was wishing for peace, for my dad, my mom, and myself. We were tired, that deep kind of tired that seeps into your bones and doesn’t go away with sleep, the kind of tired where you cry without making a sound, because you don’t even have the energy to fall apart properly. My mom, who had been the sole caregiver for him was wearing thin. My dad was probably just a shadow of who he used to be. We’ve been carrying this grief for so long, and now… now it’s real. And no matter how much we tried to prepare, nothing can prepare us for this kind of loss. We loved him, through the exhaustion, through the frustration, through the years of pain, we never stopped loving him. 

After years of watching my dad slowly fade under the weight of his illness, I thought maybe I had already grieved him. I thought maybe the long nights, the quiet tears, the helplessness… that was the grieving. But now that he’s really gone, the ache feels completely different, sharper, heavier, quieter, somehow. It’s not just sadness, it’s this strange, suffocating emptiness that creeps into the little moments. I miss him in the pauses, in the routines, in the way the house feels different. 

I carry guilt too, there’s so much guilt, for all the times I felt frustrated, for the moments I wished it would end just so my mom could finally rest, for not being there enough, even when I was doing everything I could. I hate that I ever thought he’d be better off gone… but it wasn’t because I didn’t love him. It was because I loved him so much, I couldn’t bear to see him suffer. Watching him slowly disappearing in pain and helplessness for years was such an emotional torture, and there was no end in sight. My mind started searching for anything that might have eased the suffering, even if it was the kind of thought that I didn't dare say out loud.

Now, I’m learning how to grieve him all over again, not just the illness, not just the slow fading, but the finality. The space he left behind, and still, in the middle of all the pain, I carry love, a love that’s been bruised but never broken, a love that stays in my voice when I say his name, in the parts of me that will always be his. Grieving him now is like learning how to live in a world that feels wrong without him in it, and somehow… I keep going because I know he’d want me to.

The grief follows me into rooms, lingers in my chest, and creeps into even the smallest of silences. It doesn’t look like crying all the time, it looks like pausing mid-thought because I remembered his voice, or feeling a sudden ache in the middle of a good day because I remembered he’s not here to share it with.

Rest easy, Pa. I know things were really hard for you. I know you were tired and in pain for so long, and I hated seeing you like that. but I want you to know that I never stopped loving you, not once. Even when it was hard, even when I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m sorry if I ever seemed distant or frustrated. I was just scared. I was trying so hard to be strong. Thank you for holding on as long as you did. Thank you for being my dad.
You can rest now, okay? I’ll take care of mom. I’ll be okay someday.

I might really kill my ex

I might kill my ex, not because I still love him
but because he has ruined my life
in ways that no one ever thought he would’ve been capable of
I might kill my ex, not because I still love him

but because he has taken everything I have ever owned

stealing everything like a true criminal
I might kill my ex, not because I still love him
but all the trauma he has left in me is eating me alive
gnawing every piece left of me
Leaving my body crumbled
Shattered, melt into ashes
I might kill my ex, not because I still love him
but the idea of him still being alive

breathing, thriving
all sickens me to my core
I might kill my ex, not because I still love him
but because he simply doesn’t deserve it
he is not deserving of anything good in this world

I wasn't like this, I promise

Sometimes I wish we hadn't met yet, I wish I had been healed before I met you, I promise I wasn't like this.

I wasn't some damage goods that I am today. I want to be the best version of myself when I'm with you, for that's all you deserve to get. 

I will love you with every broken pieces left in me, the ones that you've been trying to put back together the second you learned my secrets.

It's a lot of work, I am never gonna lie, and the biggest fear of mine is that you'll eventually get tired and leave.

I wasn't like this, I promise.

I will love you with every ounce of my being if you let me. I will have all ears and eyes on you and you only, but bear with me for a little while, I am learning to get myself back up and I promise you it will all be worth it. 

Men are scary

I once went on a date with a guy I met online. We did not hit it off or so I believed. I politely told him I wouldn't go on another date and eventually stopped responding to his text as he began to grow really clingy and needy which made me uncomfortable. He would blow up my phone with messages and unsolicited calls, he stalked me online for an entire week.

I blocked and reported his social media accounts, told him off for the last time that he was making me uncomfortable. I've never been so appalled, men are scary.

From the day we first met

you stole all of my heart

you had a kind of fickle air around

and lonely eyes

never ending tick-tock

rings over and over in this world

even though my tears are about to pour

from the harsh words and nagging voices I experience

I am sure if we're together

we'd find mundane happiness

to you, who can't smile in troubling days

please have the brightest morning I can think of

come take my hand

even the days you lock yourself inside 

because you want to forget

I will melt them with warmth of my embrace

so there is nothing to be afraid of

until the sun rises

let's stay together

I just wanna rant...

Cutting off toxic relationship is hard. Some may say just let them go, leave them, stop fueling their ego, ignore them, never look back. Truth is, it's not as simple as it might seem. I was convinced I was in a perfectly healthy and happy relationship for two whole years with someone who would go days without checking up on me, someone who would let me go to sleep upset, someone who would twist my words, guilt-trip and manipulate me in a way that I believed I was the crazy one just for reacting, someone who took me for granted, someone who didn't appreciate me. 

My abandonment issue made it worse, I would beg them to stay and do anything just to make things work. I would go overboard just to please them, to keep them in a good mood while ignoring my own needs and wellbeing. I would think they treat me well just for doing the bare minimum right before they began to treat me like a doormat as per usual. I was blinded, manipulated, verbally and mentally abused for two damn years and I was convinced I was the crazy one, I kept questioning my own sanity the whole time.

In the back of my mind, I somehow could see it happening but it still left me in a big shock when I found out they were being unfaithful. As you would expect of me, I forgave them, I gave them a second chance thinking they would change and make things better. Oh how big of a fool I have been.  

Not long after that, they did it again, a lot worse this time and I eventually left them. It was hard, I was in pieces, damaged, mentally and physically in pain. Even after everything, parts of me believed I was the one to blame, crazy isn't it? I spent days and night crying over it, blaming myself thinking it was all my fault that it happened.