Yours to Keep

Grown up reading tales

Of knights in shining armor

Climbing aboard their nobles steeds

Sweeping princesses off their feet

Into the sunset over the valleys and hills

And in that reality i began to believe

I fantasized about the existence

All through my teens

Of the man who’d ride a white horse

And carry me out of my dreams

I found you in my twenties

And you treated me like a queen

Somewhere in the middle of

The moments i was growing up

You thought it wasn’t meant to be

And for a long time

I was real messed up

I fought the heartbreak through

The early thirties when you

Were busy figuring out your feels

But i knew somewhere deep down

That it didn’t matter if you were around

Because my heart was yours to keep

Those were real trying times

And by the time forty grew close

I’d accepted that you’d never be mine

And then in rolled heartbreak part two

When i learned that you were to be wed

I cried through the mid-forties

Thinking i’d be alone when i was dead

In the early fifties i tried to pretend

That i was too old for this lovelorn woe

And when you got divorced

I was busy putting on a great show

But never once did i stop hoping

That someday you’d wake up and miss me

And you’d realize that day that all along

My heart had been yours to keep

We began talking once again

When the sixties rolled in

I had forgone hopes of a future together

And started living them instead

And then at the ripe age of seventy

I knew it was my time

You stood by my side telling me

That you’d join me up there

Even though we both knew our souls

Would only give heaven a scare

And closing my eyes one final time

I could only be grateful for the years with you

Where love was the only thing i knew

And even though my heart stopped beating

Not on my deathbed but when you walked away

It’s always been yours to keep

And for eternity it’s meant to stay 

Is it me?

“I am my own person; I’ll do what I like.”

But when what I like is what you like then I am really my own person when I don’t like me but I do what you like?

CigarettesInTheSand


Sometimes I think the problem is me. I can’t seem to sustain my friendships, forget relationships, and I destroy things that I have going for me. I thought I was okay being alone, and I thought that I could survive the storm on my lonesome. It’s slowly dawning upon me that I cannot keep up the pretence of having it all together and not giving a damn about anyone else. People may be inherently selfish, but they are inherently social too. Or maybe, it’s just me.

I tried it the hard way; really caring about people’s opinions and judgements and striving to meet expectations. I was taught that I cannot please anyone, so I learnt to do things to please myself. Either I’ve done it all wrong, or this philosophy is purely theoretical because all I’ve done is suppress the guilt, the fear, the pain and every other negative emotion that was meant to make me stronger, and instead, tried to emulate the emotional quotient of an Ice Queen. Let me tell you this: it isn’t working for me.

I care too much. I know I do. That leads to its own set of problems, the primary one being overthinking. But that’s another issue in itself. But caring cannot possibly make me so vulnerable to the taunts or accuses thrown my way. At any point in time, if someone told me that I was doing something wrong, the pit in my stomach would grow, and I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. So I tried countering the feeling of anxiety with owning my mistakes and learning from them rather than believing that they make me a bad person. I understood that I needed to begin viewing myself differently, because my opinion of myself is what ought to have mattered above all.

The truth is, I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want or what I’m doing. I’m floating through life, about as clueless as I could possibly be. Why am I expected to know what I think of myself? I have a moral compass, but I don’t have a specific judgement of right and wrong. I believe in the perception argument – what is right for someone may be wrong for someone else. But I don’t know whether the path I’m on is accepted by those around me. Somehow every decision I take seems to backfire and have consequences with only make the pit in my stomach bigger.

There’s only so much of the guilt I can stuff in that wardrobe you don’t want to open and sort through. At some point, it’s going to get overloaded and break open. I don’t think that I have the strength to deal with the eruption that is inevitable. I’d rather continue deluding myself to believe that I have everything under control, and that if people don’t accept me for who I am, I need not bend myself backwards to adapt to the person they want me to be. I don’t know if everyone feels the way I do right now; frankly, I think it’s just me.

There is a lot to be said about people being their own person, but at some level, everyone is bent on pleasing people. Everyone wants a pat on their shoulder, that is an undeniable truth of life. But no one wants to admit that their morals have been compromised. “I am my own person; I’ll do what I like.” I admit that I become a different person as per the wishes of the people whose validation I crave. But I know that no matter how much do, I’ll never feel like I’m good enough. It’s sad, truth be told, because I know I’m an amazing person. Saying the previous statement now makes me conceited and arrogant. Am I not allowed to recognize my plus points, if I’m able to recognize my flaws? So many questions about how people’s minds work, and the only answer I’m left with is this: it is just me.

Drowning

She dipped her toe into the waters 

They looked so serene and inviting 

She decided to try her hand at swimming 

Unaware of the storm that was lingering 

Through the waters of the ocean 

She swam without thinking 

Of the depths or the dangers as the 

Storm in and around her head began raging 

It happened all at once it was too 

Sudden for her to have known 

But she was caught in the middle of 

A storm and she was all alone 

She began moving her arms faster 

But the water was churning 

She tried to pacify her pounding heart 

By reminding herself to keep breathing 

She was close to the shore

Or so she was thinking 

But alas, she was caught in the tide 

And that was the end of the beginning 

Her body washed up on the shore 

Her eyes were shut and her chest unmoving 

There was no one to see the sight 

Of the lifeless girl that lay fighting 

She felt as though she could watch herself 

As she felt her spirit escaping 

But she needed to open her eyes 

To stop herself from dying 

Her body was tired and weary 

It refused to co-operate with her heart 

As the blood stopped flowing 

Her body started glowing 

And she escaped into the heavens 

Berating herself for unknowing 

She now had time to reflect 

On her past mistakes and doings 

But she realized soon enough 

That her drowning was a beginning

She had a new life and a chance 

To start afresh without basing 

Her life on who she used to be 

But that’s all she ended up doing 

Afraid to be someone new because 

She was afraid of becoming 

The version of her that she would 

Rather had left there dying 

And ever so often she would find herself caught 

In a nightmare and would wake up heaving 

Of the waves that tossed and turned her about 

It was her fate she ended up believing 

If only she had known before she gave up 

That only for seconds more would she be fighting 

That there was help around she didn’t know about 

Then this would be but a story of her feelings 

Pain and Conflict

Experiences help shape the essence of the definition of a person. I write about pain as though I have been through it all. I write what I know, but I don’t think I really know that much. My experiences speak about my character, my approach to situations and the way I carry myself today.

The attribution of my pain goes to no one but myself. How I choose to deal with a situation and what I learn from it lies in no one’s hands but my own. But in the middle of trying to gain control of a situation spinning faster than a cricket ball on cocaine, who would usurp the responsibility of getting through to me. It’s always easier to let things run their own course.

I talk of pain as if I am the ambassador of scars. Everyone faces tragedy, grief, loss and heartbreak. I choose to believe that I stand out amongst the throngs of broken souls because I don’t allow my pain to define me.

Conflict of perception isn’t a rare phenomenon when it comes to dealing with pain. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” they say. But my strength doesn’t lie in my pain, it lies in the fight against it. “Use your pain;” that’s another one I’ve heard frequently. The source of my pain was conflict. Conflict ensues, causing no relief from the pain. As the pain settles into numbness, I find conflict settling over my heart, eager to make the same mistakes over again while my head, drained from fighting the pain, decides that numbness is the new way of life.

It all boils down to how I choose to deal with my pain. I won’t pretend it doesn’t exist, but I won’t let it define me either. I won’t pretend that I don’t feel it pulling me back every time I reach for the sky, but I won’t let it hold me in it’s unrelenting grasp. There will be times when the pain overpowers the guards meant to keep it from escaping the prison that is my heart. And there will be times when there will be nothing left to lose and I allow my heart to break free of the prison that is my pain. But I will never let the person I am be the person who can’t see beyond the bounds of the pain and the territory of my heart. The conquest my mind leads to rid my heart of the pain shall be terminated as I allow myself to feel because everything I feel in this moment was borne of pain.

If I didn’t feel pain, I wouldn’t know true happiness. For no one values what they own lest it ceases to exist. In matters of the heart and the mind, no one will triumph except the human, for the purpose of the conflict is the happiness of the person.

I don’t own my pain, nor do I pretend that it doesn’t kill me slowly on the inside. But there’s nothing left for me to fight against. I accept that the pain is a part of me, but far be it for me to let it define me.