So maybe there really is no one out there for you, maybe it's just you biding time with others till the time comes when you realise, that it's all you, that only you yourself can change your life: for the better or the worse, and that you were your own saviour. You were your own hero all along.
Somewhere along the line I forgot this, in the back of my head I knew it but in reality I forgot to give myself the credit that I deserved. I somehow ended up associating all my success, all my handwork..everything, with one person. The problem however was that that person was not me.
So I forgot to appreciate myself.
Somehow over time all that hurt faded, and now I can't even fathom to feel anything close to it. I don't know if it was Anay who helped with it or the simple fact that I worked my ass off and actually turned my life around after hitting my rock bottom, that today I don't have to feel that kind off disappointment in myself.
I feel as if every time I told people about how Anay was the first person I could actually talk to about how I felt and just everything in general, I forgot to mention or to even acknowledge the simple and the most important fact that the only reason I could do that, was because after years of keeping everything locked inside of me, I finally found the courage in myself to finally let someone see the real me willingly. So somehow over time even I myself forgot to acknowledge this, and by doing so I started giving someone else all the credit that was earned by me.
It's weird how in a few short months so much can change: first I changed from feeling alone to feeling as if someone got me, the me that was sceptical about love, the me that spoke the truths that no one else spoke (of course now I know that I was gravely mistaken), then there was the time when I felt an inexplicable acceptance that was such an absolute in itself, that I still remember feeling safe, even though the person responsible for me feeling so was sitting in an entirely different continent. Then there was the anger and confusion that took over, as to why was it that someone who would tell me everything about his life, every small detail, someone with whom I connected on such a level that it literally blew my mind, would somehow not have the courage to just accept that he liked me or that at least he knew that I was in love with him, and had been rightly so for quite a while. Then came the insecurities: why was it that people could always like but never truly be in love with me, that people could be friends with me but never remain friends with me, why everyone gave up on me, and why no one ever stuck it out and said "We'll get through this shit. Together."
Right now I'm not sure as to where I stand, all I know is that after a long time I feel good, without the need to cry about a guy or feel as if that's my only story. I see myself getting inspired again, seeing ordinary things that mesmerise me, because they are so ordinarily extraordinary, that I can't help but just stop in the middle of tracks and just stare.
Somewhere along the line I forgot this, in the back of my head I knew it but in reality I forgot to give myself the credit that I deserved. I somehow ended up associating all my success, all my handwork..everything, with one person. The problem however was that that person was not me.
So I forgot to appreciate myself.
Somehow over time all that hurt faded, and now I can't even fathom to feel anything close to it. I don't know if it was Anay who helped with it or the simple fact that I worked my ass off and actually turned my life around after hitting my rock bottom, that today I don't have to feel that kind off disappointment in myself.
I feel as if every time I told people about how Anay was the first person I could actually talk to about how I felt and just everything in general, I forgot to mention or to even acknowledge the simple and the most important fact that the only reason I could do that, was because after years of keeping everything locked inside of me, I finally found the courage in myself to finally let someone see the real me willingly. So somehow over time even I myself forgot to acknowledge this, and by doing so I started giving someone else all the credit that was earned by me.
It's weird how in a few short months so much can change: first I changed from feeling alone to feeling as if someone got me, the me that was sceptical about love, the me that spoke the truths that no one else spoke (of course now I know that I was gravely mistaken), then there was the time when I felt an inexplicable acceptance that was such an absolute in itself, that I still remember feeling safe, even though the person responsible for me feeling so was sitting in an entirely different continent. Then there was the anger and confusion that took over, as to why was it that someone who would tell me everything about his life, every small detail, someone with whom I connected on such a level that it literally blew my mind, would somehow not have the courage to just accept that he liked me or that at least he knew that I was in love with him, and had been rightly so for quite a while. Then came the insecurities: why was it that people could always like but never truly be in love with me, that people could be friends with me but never remain friends with me, why everyone gave up on me, and why no one ever stuck it out and said "We'll get through this shit. Together."
Right now I'm not sure as to where I stand, all I know is that after a long time I feel good, without the need to cry about a guy or feel as if that's my only story. I see myself getting inspired again, seeing ordinary things that mesmerise me, because they are so ordinarily extraordinary, that I can't help but just stop in the middle of tracks and just stare.
No comments:
Post a Comment