Dear You

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Do you sleep just as uneasy as I do?

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It’s hard knowing you weren’t the first.

Always second best.

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I’ll be so busy in this place that I won’t even have time to think about what I left behind. Memories will creep into my mind at seconds before sleep, I’ll cry, and then knock out. That moment is the only time things like that will appear. Eventually, after about 7 years, people’s memories will fade. I’ll be forgotten about back at home and if I, myself, will ever run into someone from a distant past, I’ll walk right past them, as if a stranger in my wake. I won’t recognize them. They won’t recognize me. And things will be perfect because no one will remember the girl who tried her hardest in school, or the girl who was so damn self-conscious, or the girl who would make a big deal out of everything, or the girl who was always so dramatic, or the girl who took for granted the great things in her life, or the girl who was never good at keeping friendships, or the girl who never loved. Yes, escape would be beautiful.

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The sad part is that you’ll always think I’m okay.

(via tripleaughtjonb)

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I realize that I’ve always sided with things that are more concrete, sometimes tangible. I’ve settled with oxidative respiration, integrals, derivatives, and proper subject-verb agreements because they’re less confusing than emotions.

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http://xoxoanonymousletters.tumblr.com/ask

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Ever notice?

whothefuckisjonb:

sayyourpeace:

nbueno:

How similar most filipino people are? Style-wise at least.

Most girls rock the thick side-swept bangs with lots of volume near the crown, heavy-eyeliner, DGAF attitudes, nerd glasses, an OBSESSION with Hello Kitty, leather bombers, and my personal favorite..boots and shorts in the dead of winter -__-

Guys are guilty of this too. Flannel/plaid button-ups, V-necks, Nikes or Vans, DGAF attitudes, lip rings, fitted caps, skinny jeans, nerd glasses, beanies, a love for photography, music, guitars, rosaries as necklaces, and foxtails.

thank God I’m not like the guys

 That’s a far cry from my style. Good thing it said “most” instead of “all.” I do have side-swept bangs, however.

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02/19/10

Dear Bella,

Throughout the past year you’ve expressed your unhappiness. I tried to comfort you, let you know that there are good things in your life that you’re just not noticing and how you are loved. You said there was no God, and I didn’t try to persuade you otherwise in that subject because I don’t feel like anyone should force beliefs on others.

But why did you try to do it? Why did you try to take your own life? I feel responsible because I haven’t been keeping in touch with you, and now I find this out a month after it happened. You know sometimes, I want to hug you so fiercely and other times I want to punch you in the face. I absolutely hate how you think you’re life is something to throw away. You never see how fortunate you are and you just take things for granted! I hate you so much when it comes down to that. A million or more people would love to be in your shoes; have a roof over your head, food on your plate, shoes on your feet. I get so angry with you! Why can’t you see the world around you and see the beauty?

And as much as I say I hate you, I love you just as much. I blame myself for certain things, like not always checking on how you’re doing, leaving you alone to your dark thoughts. I don’t know what to do to help you because I feel like I’ve tried so many things and failed so many times. I feel like I’ve failed you as a friend. I can say sorry, but at this moment I don’t feel like sorry is even good enough.

Love,
C.