Quotes added on Friday, April 15 2016

Heartbreak <3 
Heartbreak is real. When you go to sleep heartbroken. Then when you wake up, and before you open your eyes, you remember that your hearts broken. That truly, hurts. 
Life is not just about chasing millions. It’s about achieving happiness and finding fulfillment in what you do.-RVM 
Who you holding out for, my darling, oh darling? Best not be a waste of your sweet time, little darling. Because I heard that you sit on this corner, waiting for your lover to come pass by at around nine. I heard many things but hope none are true, because time is sweet but his love is overdue. So quit holding out for your darling, little darling. This boy is not a man, and girl you are but a woman.

































may your vibes and day be good




  








 
 ‘You’ve changed’ is an insult often intended to discourage you. Ignore it. This is your growth. Adapting and refining yourself are all necessary parts of the process. So long as you continue to endeavour to be kind and compassionate you have nothing to be ashamed of.

You can never control who you fall in love with, even when you’re in the most sad, confused time of your life. You don’t fall in love with people because they’re fun. It just happens.




I like beginnings because they’re so full of promise. The first page of a book, the first day of a job, the first time you buy yourself flowers, the first date with a new man, the first touch, the first kiss, the first kick of a good liquor, the first moment you hold your own baby. I like beginnings because I know there’s always more to come.
     — Shyma Perera
 

To the Person Who Destroyed

Me by Trying to Fix Me

Before I Was Ready
The way you broke me all over again by trying to ‘fix’ me is beautifully ironic, I’ll give you that. There is something almost poetic about the way you turned my damaged heart into a home for yourself. You see, to you I was a terribly broken thing. You see, to you I was something that needed fixing. Where I saw my most precious possession, my heart, perhaps a little worn for wear but still beautiful to me, you saw a house with broken shutters made of betrayal and creaking floors made of mistrust.

I let you convince me that it wasn’t worth your love as it was, no matter how much love I gave you, it could still be better because it came from a broken thing like that. I let you regard my most treasured possession like a thing of disgust because it had been loved and damaged by someone else before. And what is worse, I looked at it with disgust too. Like I wasn’t good enough for you. I handed you the hammer to start smashing.

So you got to work, fixing creaking doors that would never quite close properly behind people and sweeping away cobwebs from places I had deliberately buried deep within the chambers. You roamed through the rooms of my heart and settled down in what you called a home. A home that was now, you said, worthy of your love. You stood back and admired the handiwork – my heart was no longer my own but now, your home.

And for a while, I believed you. And you and I we were happy. Happy as long as I was doing everything you wanted the way you wanted it. Happy as long as the quick fixes you had made were worth your love. Happy as long as I kept a big smile plastered to my face as you boasted to everyone how much effort it took to fix me up again, so I was worthy of love again, so I was able to love again.

As if I was an unlovable thing before you fixed me. As if you had fallen in love with the idea of me, not the person I am.

The way you fixed me was insidious at best. Ridiculing me into being comfortable with things before I was ready. Constantly telling me what ‘normal people’ are like and how I need to try harder to be like them. Saying you would leave if I didn’t try harder and harder and harder to be what you wanted me to be, rather than what I needed to be for myself. I learned that if I did not put you first, if I spoke of my past, if I even mentioned pain in any way, shape or form, it would result in you threatening to leave. The way you would refuse to love me when I was anxious, when I was in pain, when I needed love the most because in your mind, it was either perfect, or nothing at all.

It took me a long time to understand that I was a thing worth loving, just as I was. It took me a long time to know that my heart has always been a home, but for no one else, just for me. It took me even longer to understand that fixing people is not how you love them. Healing is not made of quick splashes of paint to cover the sadness, some words to stop the pain from being quite so painful, and words like ‘I love you’ placed like a new sofa in an old room hoping to cover up the bloodstains and heartache on the floor.

Healing is a journey in which one fixes oneself. Slowly. Carefully. Sometimes with one step forward and two steps back. Healing is not a horizontal path. It contains cliffs and seas and mountains and all kinds of things that make it hard to travel. If it was easy, it would not take time, nor patience to complete. And to love a broken thing best is to have patience with it’s journey. It is to hold that person close on the nights when they wake up screaming. It is to understand that though the tears are here, they will one day be a distant memory.

Broken people are not houses. You cannot put your feelings inside them and expect them to be as good as new. Broken people are not projects for you to fix; instead, allow them fix themselves whilst you both grow.

The sad thing is, I loved you enough to want to hurry my own journey, to pretend that you had fixed me, to allow you to let me think that the damage was gone when really, lurking under the surface of my newly wallpapered heart, the damage was resentfully, claustrophobically festering. So one day, I walked in there and ripped apart all that hard work you did just to let it breathe.

You see, this is the trouble with broken things like me. You either love us broken. Or you do not love us at all. I am grateful that you chose the latter. Because in the absence of your need to make me perfect, I have learned to love myself just as I am so much more.

I have learned that my alone is a beautiful, forgiving thing. It is slowly filling these cracks and wounds inside me with love and healing. My alone is softer with my heart than your love had ever left it feeling.
   
The first time we fell in love, we carved our initials into the back of a library book. I was afraid we’d get in trouble, but you insisted, so enamored with the idea that someone else would see it, someone else would open up a page and see our beginning. See how badly we just wanted one another.

The second time we fell in love, we were older, but not any wiser. You kept trying to kiss away my memory and I was doing the opposite. I spent months convincing myself romance wasn’t on the menu. Never again, it’s easier that way, I’d say. But then you were back breathing on my neck and I was screaming your name. Then we were back in the place we said was done.

The third time we fell in love, we were confusing love with habit. We were confusing love with routine. Our bodies felt safe, so we chalked it up to soulmate stuff.

You, with that helium heart,
how we’d get so close and without second thought,
you’d float away.
How I’d still find you weeks later
waiting somewhere,
deflated.

You’d say, “I need something else.”
I’d say, “So don’t keep landing on my doorstep.”

Me, with my leaky eyelids,
how I wanted to cry out your pain,
I’d take the brunt of it.
I’d shoulder the load.

We fell in love so many times, it’s easy to think that’s stardust lover stuff. But it’s not. Because each time we fell in, we also fell back out.

We kept falling back out.
I think we should remember
how often we fell back out.

—Ari Eastman, We Fell in Love a Thousand Times, We Just Never Stayed

         She has a mouth like unswept glass – when you least expect it, she 
   cuTs You.

People You Might Like
  • Steve
  • Dudu*
  • mariah_love1369
  • halfempty
  • Skimrande
  • tornedsoul*
  • DJ*
Newest Wittians
  • Lindasib
  • BobbyeriStUsh
  • Lewisuhagab
  • ThomasovCok
  • Buffka
  • cosmetictattooingbrisbane
  • Clarazkaaroca