‘What is happening to me’, isn’t exactly the clichéd phrase I had in mind. 

But let’s put it simple and straight – I’m losing my mind. This doesn’t happen often, and it’s mostly a very personal thing. I play this game of snakes and ladders in my head, where the snakes are concepts built up by me, and climbing up a ladder is often 20 times more dramatic than it should be.

And then, in my oversized school-colored-navy sweater when I walk out to face reality on a foggy winter night, I’m hit by my own delusional contrast.

All or Nothing.

Let’s keep All in a corner. But please, please let it not be Nothing.

Mr. Long Locks,

Can I say love-letters are passe? I know I've written my share - which is why this pre-letter disclaimer. This is not a love-letter. This is a letter to commemorate what almost became a love story.

I've been rummaging nostalgia filled nights, with old chats on g talk and re-living what can only be described as warmth. You're so warm, fuzzy and adorable.You made me happy. It's really that simple. It's a pity I didn't see it back then. Ours was a short-lived affair. I won't lie - I underestimated you, us. Perhaps I hoped for too much, and couldn't see the present and what it was already offering to me. Perhaps I wasn't looking for warm and fuzzy. Besides, you led me to the love of my life, so I don't particularly have any regrets.

I'll tell you what's a pity though. Knowing this could have turned into something beautiful, and deliberately letting it slip through my fingers - although I know I put an end to things, not you. Mostly the fact that I found an intense, mind-blasting love, surpassed any and everything else in front of me. And we weren't love yet. We were a ball of special conversations, comfort and smiles.

I miss you. Not for any other reason but that there will always be a wall in front of us. Nice to know you are happy, settled and in love. I wish you even more than the best.

But sometimes, I wonder why we didn't fall in love, but I don't really have an answer. Don't get me wrong, I don't wish that we get back together. I have moved on, and I am happy by myself, with a rug-sack of amazing memories from the past year and a half. And I know you're happy with your current life. I just wish we had the liberty to be what we were?

Not very long ago, I had compared you to the idea of a chocolate cake. Comforting, moist and just plain lovely. You will always live in my heart as that metaphor.

Love,
Me.

Fluid thoughts from my brain

How dare she? She's not nearly as talented as I am. I would prove it to you - but I know i'd come off as trying too hard. But her! No. Nononononono. She's pretty alright. You just think she's talented and artistic because you don't know me well enough.

How dare he? He's fucking 26; a child. How can he want to be married to me? How can he be a good person, but a retarded psycho in the same breath? How dare he create a divide - how dare he discard? How dare he insinuate that I am complex? How dare I let myself open up to him?

Why must everything be buried if I throw a handful of mud on the situation? Surely the handful couldn't cover such a vast area? Why must we completely walk away if we decide to cut the chord? Why can't we cut it only to stick it back with pseudo-permanent glue later on and pretend that nothing went wrong? Of course, we wouldn't repeat the same mistakes - that's what life's about right?

Everything's melting, like in the 3rd movement of Moonlight Sonata. I like melted stuff. You can always freeze it later, and restore the balance.

Right?

It was noon already.

As I walked out of the door, I had no idea what was going to hit me.

I'm going to kill myself, at this rate.