they call this forever.

“I love you in your good moods, when your laughter sounds like the tinkling wind chimes I got on my 9th birthday. And when your eyes sparkle, i swear they could be more beautiful than the all the star-studded galaxies put together. And I love you, i love you in your bad times, bad mo-/ I’m sorry … I…don’t seem to be able to do that.”

If we could be honest with ourselves like that, maybe then we wouldn’t be the mess we are today, wouldn’t need to break ourselves a thousand times over in this lifetime.  maybe it’ll help, to be honest for once. Because it hurts you, honey, it hurts me. and it hurts more than we care to know.

The first time it feels like stitches, the pain that ferociously assaults your side when you were finely striding along just a second ago.
Then all of a sudden you’re wheezing hard like a strangled beast, gasping for breath, for air, for relief.
-//
it comes in waves, the pain and the relief, the joy and the madness. They alternate its cycles, we could almost figure out their pattern if we tried hard enough. then we could avoid this bitter rollercoaster altogether, could we not?

and love.
you’re hurting. and so am I.

it’s all fading when you begin to count the days and months instead of when you used to call that day the ‘first time we…’.
and you realize it does fade. time always does this trick, he isn’t a nice old man we concoct him to be in our fantasy. no, he doesn’t let you catch your breath. he rushes people right along, whether they like it or not.
and if you’re fortunate enough, he lets you pause just long enough to notice that the leaves have swapped their fashion to match the season.
in just another moment, they fall like awkward oversized confetti in the still air.
and in a time lapse, you see the green veiny thin things spiralling upwards, swept by the winds of change.

they land very unceremoniously, forming crunchy messes in spaces of mindless cement.
one more heap of useless nothings.

so, will we end that way?

 


sidenote: i haven’t had much writing inspiration lately but tonight all the words fell into place.
also im not in a relationship, thought i’d need to clarify.

“she puts her heart on paper. then the paper turns to gold.”
– joanna tan, 2017.

Advertisements

Thursday Thoughts: I am Sorry.

{ I don’t know what to do with apologies }

It’s kinda sad when people hurt you and apologize and now the onus is on you to painfully and more carefully hide how it all still hurts. No, it shouldn’t be this way.

–// Take a plate. Drop it.
Watch the shattered pieces decorate the floor.
Collect the broken shards.

Now, apologize to it.

There. It is fixed. //

We’ve all been taught by our parents to apologize when we are in the wrong and to graciously accept apologies from those that wrong us.
While I still agree with that rule, however, to a certain extent, I no longer believe an “I’m sorry” is applicable to severe offences.

It seems to me that an offer of apology serves to only ease the conscience of the offender…
and does nothing to help the wounded…
Does it not?
–/ I hear so many hearts breaking //

That is why, in some cases, I do not believe an apology is worth anything.

Sure, it is a valid courtesy. But still, sadly, and too often, a courtesy too late.

One day, I will teach my own children the importance of saying sorry, but I will also teach them that some hurts created are too deep that not even a hundred apologies accompanied with “Please forgive me” cards attached to a thousand red roses can ever reverse the damage.
I will tell them how their own mother’s youth-hood was drowned with blood and tears and many fears because she was weak and foolish enough to let people’s words stab her heart a million times over.
I will show them my scars and tell them how I wish for them to be strong people, that will not easily let some outsider’s brusque discouraging actions and words affect their heart.
But if and when it does, I understand, and oh my beautiful child, it is okay.
They can climb into my bed in the middle of any night at any time and I will hold them till their shoulders stop shaking, until their tears dry.
I will remind them to be always careful of what they say, and how much I hope and pray that they never be found guilty of killing someone’s soul or spirit with quick, sharp tongues that shoots careless words.

So if you know you’ve hurt me deeply, show me with your actions that you’re truly sorry.
If you have apologized, I truly admire the humility and courage you had put together to do so and thank you.

But if you haven’t, don’t.

Don’t apologize.
It’d only make me cry cos I’d feel so lost. And I don’t want to feel that way.

Don’t apologize.
Please.

I wouldn’t know what to do with it.

they’ll break you 

I think pastors kids go through a lot of things they shouldn’t have to go through and have to grow up faster than everyone. 

I say that cus for pastor’s kids, no matter how many times you tell them to be themselves, there’s this invisible standard they’re held up to. They must never show inferior qualities, must be holy, must never have a bad mood, must be the role model that will never fail, can never fully voice out their frustrations and sadness, must live with all the wrongs done to them and their family, must keep quiet no matter how angry you are at some people.

I think I’ve lived this way for so long I’ve lost myself. I crave to never have to deal with suckers and all the crap they throw at us. I desperately want to be a normal Christian who can fail and gets help instead of getting judged. It’s like I’m drowning in the deepest ocean and there’s people around me and I’m watching them b r e a t h i n g. 

I think so many people forget that pastors kids are normal kids that have feelings like everyone else. 

It’s the pressure, I guess, of living up to a standard people hold up and they can be the meanest people on the planet. And I’m tired of this. Really tired.

Friday Reflections

The experience of our lives, when we let God use them, become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work He will give us to do.

– Corrie Ten Boom

Thankful for the way God has been working in my life and especially in relation to the ministry with my kids in LAMBS. Both boys present different challenges, both very unique yet precious to me, and I’m sure, to the Lord. 

I thank God for the experiences of my life, experiences which I used to see as bitter and hurtful. But today, it is the same experiences which allow me to understand my boys better. 

So, I now know that it is when we let God use our experiences, every part of our experiences, both bad and good, then, will it become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work He will give us to do. 

I often wonder to how great an extent can one hurt on the inside. I wonder how the pain of losing a loved one, like the fabric of life that held everything together being torn apart, can crawl its way through the outside and steal its way into the heart and soul of a person […]