Thoughts on 2019

I want to think that this year has been one that shaped me a lot. 

Last year had been one of the toughest periods I had in a while. A lot of grief and moving on that I wasn't ready for. And it took me a long time to process the changes in my life, and become fully aware of those important to me. 

This year was full of growing and learning. 

At times I was thrown into the mix of things and I felt like I was constantly behind on things. I was tackling things one after another for months. I found myself doing more than the fair share of work. I was struggling to find balance, and I didn't have much time for myself to recharge. There was only so much that I could do for other people and most importantly myself.

After everything that's happened this year, the most important thing is that I'm here.
I made it through.

My friends reassured me that there's someone to help me at my lowest. They shook me by the shoulders because they know how stubborn I can be when it comes to asking for help; and that's something I'm grateful for. They've taught me about how much a friend's love can transcend. It's a push and pull of kindness, comfort, laughter, respect, competition, and admiration. We're moving through this world together, and it's their caring heart that makes it a little less lonely.

I found moments of peace in between the chaos.

I've been wanting to get out of New York for a while. Thankfully, going on small trips have brought fresh air to my lungs. Sometimes I need to leave behind old memories to make new ones. It was time to see, smell, and taste new things. I needed to clear my mind. Visiting Philadelphia, Maryland, D.C., and New Haven this year reminded me of the simple moments I try not to take for granted. Walking through gardens, having picnics, sharing breakfast in a small town, letting the ocean tickle my toes. There's truly no price that can fit the value of walking down new roads and enjoying someone else's company. 

I've really pushed myself this year.

I worked the hell out of myself when it came to learning new things. I took up new internships, met new people, and reminded myself to do my best at everything. I made mistakes along the way, and I'm still doing my best of becoming a better version of myself. Whether that's being more mindful of my words, or to be more understanding of people's experiences. I said "yes" to opportunities that have brought me outside of my comfort zone. I knew when to say "no" so that I could focus on myself. I put in effort to show love, care, and joy to people around me. I'm glad I got to share that experience with familiar and new faces.

I found enough courage and trust in myself to take chances.
Although it was scary at first, I'm happy with the way things have turned out. I've learned to give myself more credit for the heart that I'd doubt. I second guessed quite a lot and juggled the "what if" questions - and it was important that I didn't ignore them. And that I didn't give up. There are reasons for my thoughts and I had to have those conversations with myself. I opened up about my personal life and was vulnerable when having uncomfortable conversations. I was honest with myself and others. I'm grateful for those heart-to-heart moments of understanding, respect, and clarity.
It'll still take me a while before I can find a balance between reasoning with my heart and with my mind. 

Plans don't always work out and I'm at a place right now where I'm okay with that. There were moments where I felt better to let go and move on - and I feel prepared to make those decisions again.

I feel very grateful for what 2019 has been for me.
My health, home, family, friends. I'm lucky enough to share love with someone new in my life.

Most importantly, I'm falling more in love with myself and the process of growing into who I am becoming.

So long 2019.
Talk soon!
:)

Before You Go

Dear,

I know this time of year is tough. 

Things have gone by so quickly and it feels overwhelming. People have come and gone, and it's a hard reminder of where you are right now. It's the same drone and routine that's pushed you further back. The stress and pressures that has chipped away at the smile you use to wear. Replaced by lines of worry and dark circles of melancholy. 

All the things you've wanted to do, the places you've wanted to see, dreams you've dreamt -- all that haven't been done.

And I know you'd rather be alone now, just like all those years before. 

In your bed sleeping in for the first time in months.

Taking a walk so the icy needles of air poke your lungs.

Drinking some hot coco in a coffee shop with your lonely scarf.

Writing in that abandoned notebook.

Listening to the songs you've missed.

But I know you well enough to understand that you'll be okay.

And that you'll come back.

That your heart of love and kindness has infinite space. Even if that means you have to close the doors once in a while. 

But before you go,

I hope you know that I love you.

Four Words

I use to collect these memories obsessively.
Each note was dated. Each handwriting was labeled with names. Each doodle was an immaculate story. Boxes and smalls tins fill with moments forgotten by you, but living within me.

I'd write to you and recount each word on paper.
They were my quiet confessions, only mine.
But I wanted to give them to you.

I wanted to make your chest tremor,
move the waves in your smile,
ease the swells of your shoulders,
hold your heart gently,
and hush it to a soft sleep.
I wanted to be enough for you.

I wanted you to feel wanted.

So I stamped and addressed you my words.
But I don't think you held them close to you.

So I've tried forgetting the things I write,
because I'll never have the courage to ask for it back.

I told myself not to think of this anymore,
but I need to ask anyways.

Though paper yellows
Though notes get lost
Though pages rip
Though handwriting fades
Though nothing stays forever

Will you remember me?

The Weight You Carry

How much can you lift?

50 pounds? 100?!
Wow, that's pretty impressive. I can't do that at all, I have noodle arms.
But I've moved a bookshelf down a couple flights before. A few tables here and there, boxes too. I've lifted a mattress -- which is surprisingly heavy.

Carrying those things out and away is hard.
I always joke that there's no such thing as making two trips. Or that it's either no pain or no gain. So I tend to carry more than I can hold. Haha, my friends definitely know from the times we've went grocery shopping.

But anyways - yeah. I've moved a piano once -- desks, chairs, sofas even.

I've put their winter sweaters away, while they sorted the rest.
I've stacked the chairs into the hall, while they pretended it was a throne.
I've picked up one end of the box, while they labeled it with "fragile" on all sides.
I've brought a lamp down the stairs, while they double checked for anything left behind.
I've loaded the car for the 8th time, while they said goodbye to the Nelson's.

I've held the door for them so they could walk out first.

After a while, I'd thought the weight would be easier to carry... but it feels almost heavier -- and it's funny because it's not that bad.
Because those things can all be set down, unpacked, unwrapped, reorganized, dusted, and it's good to go. They're only heavy for as long as they're in your hands.

But what's bad is when it's not in your hands.
The heaviness can sit on your heart - now that's the worst.

I can never get a good grip on that heaviness. It has no handles, no corners, no concrete feeling -- it feels uneasy. Just like when

I overthink and let things go easily. when
I don't know what the last thing my grandma said to me. when
I get scared my family will be gone before I understand their love. when
I feel alone sometimes while I'm around others.

Now because I can never get a good grasp on it - it moves however it likes.
The heaviness can feel like that for a quick moment, or it can linger for however long it wants.

But that kind of heaviness is probably not what you meant.

So, no.
I don't know exactly how much I can lift -- but 100 pounds, 24 elephants, or however heavy Jupiter is.
It doesn't compare to the weight I've carried.

Looking Back

Hey you.
Whatever you do, don't do it.

I know it's easy and it's tempting to turn around and go back to everything you knew - but it'll only hurt a little bit more.

The places you've been, known, had gotten comfortable in - eventually gets old. You relive too many moments that begin to blur. Though you convince yourself you're making new memories there, it all  becomes the same.

The same people, gossip, reveries, and the semi-decent moments you claim to be wonderfully unique.

Been there, done that.
But you're right there, doing that - and it's not fun anymore.

We're not exploring, finding new things to do, and surprising ourselves with our own thoughts. As sweet as those moments were - looking back makes me lose myself a little more. It does.

It does.

So please don't turn around, because I might have to leave you behind.

I can't promise that it'll be good or bad - whatever's ahead.
But just keep walking forward.

You could hold my hand if you want.
It'll hurt a little bit less if you do. It does.

It does.

Where You'll Find Her

I can't find her.
She's gone off to wherever she goes.
I've looked most places, but no one has seen her for a while.

I know she's still here though.
She'd never leave without saying a goodbye.

Not in a sea of drunk laughter in the kitchen.
Not in the messy half hearted conversations by the door.
Not in the sweaty dance circles in the living room.

I found her.
She was in the bathroom.

She's practicing her smiles.
She's realigning lines of worry.
She's pulling out grey hairs.

She's telling herself it'll all be alright.
She's filling in the forgotten spaces between people.
She's moving through the fading shadows of others.

She's trying her best to stay, but it's hard when she feels out of place.

For now, if you look for the small moments, that's where you'll find her.

I Can't Have Nice Things

Blow out a candle.
Tie some balloons together.
Tell me that today will be wonderful.

For those 2 minutes, you can make me believe that everything is perfect.
I'll think with ease and move with peace.

But the moment will last for only so long, until your cheeks tighten and the smoke clears.

Because I know I woke up from slamming doors.
Because I cower from your mouth still wet with careless venom.
Because I shiver at the thought of those tense years.
Because I can only sleep with the lull of drowsy chords.

Nice things don't come by often.
I know this because they'd never let me hold on.

I Wish the Best for You

I hope you feel loved someday, because I'll try my best to do it now.

It might be selfish to want to be the one you cry to, laugh with, share secrets with. But I know that you'll find other people that will listen to your problems, or sadly brush it off. I know there will be other people you'll tell exciting news to first - and it'll hurt me to know that I can't be the one to be there for you all the time. 

It's alright, sometimes you'll need to be around someone that isn't me. I know that you need a break from me.

I worry you'll get tired of me - that everything will run dry. That you'll disappear to the places that you went off to before I was around. 

I know you well enough to let you go be on your own - because that's what you'd do for me too.

I'm sure you'll be fine, at least that's what I tell myself.

We've taken care of each other for so long that it's second nature. But I'll say it again for old times sake just before we go our own ways.

Please eat well. 

It's easy to fall into your old habits of not eating. It took you so long to admit dark parts to yourself, and I'm so proud of how far you've come. Listen to your body, don't listen to that voice.

Please rest too.

The quietness of the dead of night is so comforting, but books, movies, and TV shows will be there tomorrow for you. Make that cup of tea like I usually do for you, it'll help you sleep.

Please breathe.

One, two, three. Just like we practiced all those years.

Please be safe.

I hope no one hurts you. Though you've been broken, chipped, and taped together - don't mix up your kind heart, generosity, and warmness with the tough skin you've armored up with. One is meant to be taken off once in a while.

Maybe you'll read this later on and scoff, or find something worth while.

Until then, I wish the best for you.

When the Rain Comes Down

When the Rain Comes Down

I hope you find comfort in the sheets of my bed
and in the beats of my heart

The droplets outside slide like silk
slow and calm
elegantly molding with one another
chasing to be part of someone else

The music is faintly echoing in the room
as I brush away your tickling hair on my nose

You press the cold tips of your lips to my collar
searching for warmth
of what was left from last night

I breathe in the dew from the left side of the mattress
not bothered to close the window
as the wind gently ushered rain into the room

Your finger tips draw circles to the back of my spine
smoothing over the ridges of my bones
easing the weight I've carried

I count your eyelashes
a mix of
long and short
curled and straight
but I'm distracted by the warm eyes that look back into mine

Your forehead touches mine
reminding me that you're still here
even when the rain comes down

Freckles

I like how the sun kisses your skin

golden and warm
glowing and flushed with the summer heat

You say that you get hot and sticky

the air is too stuffy
the sweat is too much

but I catch you closing your eyes in the morning
soaking up the day before it starts


I like how the moonlight falls on your cheek

silky and cool
soft and blended with the darkness

You say that the peace and quiet is all you need

the gentle hum of passing cars
the stillness of sleeping birds

but I catch you humming along to the music of my playlist
swaying in my arms like the night before


I like how the constellations move with your freckles

adrift and infinite
adored and unpredictable with the faded rays

You say they look weird in the mirror

the misshapen marks of distant Summers
the inbetweeners of dull specks

but I catch you smiling when I kiss your cheeks
connecting the dots of each freckle with my lips

When Will I Know?

"You'll know when the moment's right."

How though?
It baffles me when I hear this because I don't know if I've been aware enough to think: "this is it."
Have you?

It's amazing and beautiful to hear stories of people knowing that they've found love, reached a peak of their life, made a decision they're a million percent sure about.
 But I don't think I've had that moment of certainty.

I'm the type of person who either plans everything to the dot, and yet, I feel that everything is out of my reach to control. It's a messy way of thinking and feeling. So at times when I feel as if I'm almost there - just by the finish line of whatever I'm doing - it isn't enough. I put my time, care, and passion to what I do, and I still feel like something's missing.

So when will there be a moment in my life of - preparation, anxiety, and fear - will I feel right?
After all the wrong turns and falling down will something feel like a final piece is fitting?

It's been hard. The things I've learned in life has made it so easy to forget what happiness is and was.

Happiness isn't the same anymore.
Sadness isn't the same anymore.

When will there be a time of feeling that this - is "just right"?

When will I know?

I Miss You

I don't really know what it's like to miss someone.
I've heard songs, I've seen movies, I've read books about it. But I don't think I've actually missed someone to the point where I long for their eyes, touch, or smile with a ache.

Sure, I miss some people.
The way their laugh sounds, the way they'd talk, and the way they'd move.
But I don't think it's the same as the way I wished it was.

These days I've been thinking about that feeling, and whether it'll be easier to let that aching slip over my walls one day. I know I shouldn't, because I know the more I think about it - the higher I'll build that expectation. And that's not fair for me, or who ever there will be someday.

Have you ever felt this way?

Sometimes I feel like I'm just desperate, and need to snap out of it. I've been listening to too many love songs, reading too many books, watching too many romcoms. I've fallen in love with just the idea - not the baggage, the compromises, the trouble of it all.

But at the same time, is it really that bad of a thing to do?
To wish for something magical? To want something close to me?
To be in love?

I ask myself these questions all the time. And I tell myself all kinds of things - sometimes it's true, sometimes I could be wrong.

So I just stick with what I have, what I know, and what I'm trying to figure out.

I'm trying not to think about it. Not want it.
It's a hard thing to do - but it's getting easier.

I'm focusing on myself. Doing what I love. Exploring new places. Trying new things. Enjoying old memories. Finding small dreams.

I'm trying not to worry about whether I should wait around to experience this moment with someone else. Rather than saving it, I'll live this moment.

Right?

~

Whoever you are, I miss you.

A Change

Have you ever had a moment where you knew you needed a change?
That you needed to see new things or do something different?

I've been noticing a few moments in my life like that recently.
Whether it be purging my closet from old clothes, reorganizing my desk, or deleting certain photos/social media. Things like that has made me notice how I've been hoarding things and creating clutter.

And it's been a good need for change.

It's a update, a desire to move on and refresh.
To cleanse my mind, surroundings, and emotions (in a healthy way of course).

I just gotten rid of almost like half of my closet, which is mostly T-shirts. Why hold onto something that isn't adding anything to my life? Sure it's comfortable and familiar. It can be bittersweet to cut ties from the sentimental values of things. But I know it'll be no use just collecting more dust and space.

So I pack it up, put it in a bag, and say my farewells.
It's a small step of progress.

In the long run, I know I'll be okay without it.

Going Back to Old School

12:47 am

Hi from your regular night owl.

I think I'm going to go back to writing like I use to, just old school stream of consciousness. No planning on a topic or a overly-thought-out title.

I'm in the middle of trying to write a personal essay for a application, and I'm literally doing anything I can to avoid it - like usual.

I find it so frustrating having to explain myself, and reword ideas that I'm sure a thousand other people have said before me. Plus the competition of even getting chosen. Arg.

It's when we're put in complicated and difficult situations where decision-making become one of the only choices. I need to decide what to wrtiteeeeee - ahhhhh. I know I keep finding excuses - including typing this very moment - as a tactic of being too afraid to go through with something.

When will I be able to decide, and just go for something? These days I don't know what I want, because being comfortable is okay for me. But being comfortable isn't always good - ironically - I can say the same for new things. And when I do want something - I'm constantly doubting myself and asking:

Am I ready? Is this going to turn out well in the long run? Is this going to hurt me anyway? What are the consequences? Did I have enough time to prepare? Who's involved? What happens next?

I haven't found the switch in my head to just - SHH. It's usually when things don't go a certain way when I finally accept things in the way they are and move on...

I mean I'm alive, but I'm not living...

If only I were retired and could travel. Either one sounds blissful.

12:59 am
I'll get back to that essay now, bleh.