Trapped.

Can you say you’re an amazing friend if you’re making your best friend feel trapped?

I made up my mind. I told my mother. I essentially announced it on Facebook. I told that person.

And I was happy.

And then his incessant questioning made me feel so trapped that I couldn’t breathe. My space is important to me. I let people in to a certain limit. Everyone has different limits. And that’s how I’m comfortable; that’s how I function. He keeps pushing those limits and it hurts me every time. But I cope. I coped once. I coped twice. But I can’t handle incessant pushing.

I made up my mind and I unmade it. I feel trapped already. What happens if I say yes?

*

Run. Flee. Jump. Fly.

I am two people.

Meet me. The happy-go-lucky, carefree, open, fun loving and high on life me. The girl who takes the phrase ‘joie de vivre’ to a whole new level. Someone who’s hell bent on making people smile. Diffusing unpleasant situations. The life of the party. The one keeping everyone together.
Sounds nice?

Meet the other me. The messed up me. The eternally depressed me. The one who keeps herself in pain because she knows no other way to cope. The one who can’t began to fathom happiness because she doesn’t think she deserves it. The one who will do anything and everything to push everyone away, just because she can’t imagine being really truly happy.  She doesn’t want to be.

I keep telling people I’m messed up. They don’t believe me. Let’s see what lasts.

What is love?

“Wo muhabbat he kia, jo sawwal karna janti ho.. jo fark rakhna jaanti ho, jo sochna jaanti ho..”

“What kind of love is a love.. which knows how to question, knows how to differentiate.. knows how to think?”

Shards, not pieces.

You know how most literature uses the phrase ‘..heart broke into pieces’?
Well, I think that’s as far from true as possible. I dont think hearts break into pieces. I think they break into shards.

Shards of glass, with sharp jagged edges.

*

I’m trying to put myself back together again, shard by shard. Each shard I try to fix into place? It makes me bleed. It hurts me.It makes me sick.
Yet, I keep trying.

*

The funny thing though, is those shards don’t stick. As much as I force them into place, they fall apart as soon as I let my fingers slip.

*

The worst part? I don’t know how to fix them. I don’t know how to make myself whole without bleeding out.