The Aftermath.

Can we ever truly look at someone or talk to someone, whom we were once in love with, and not feel anything?

The thing is, I never really figured out, if I ever was in love with him. All I knew, was that he was someone very special to me. Even now, after all these years, I still don't know.

After last night, I do think, a part of me, was indeed, a little in love with him. It's just that the 'fifteen year old' me denied whatever I felt by stating all theses reasons as to why it was stupid and wrong. How HE was wrong. How he was not the kind of person I wanted or needed.

Growing up, you realise that every person, you fall for, is in some part, exactly what you have always wanted.

 Plus as it turns out, he was exactly what I needed at that point in my life.

So, I finally, finally, met him last night, after God knows how many years.

The aftermath was not something that I had not anticipated.

I broke down, crying, on my way home.

So the question is: Can we ever really fall out of love with someone, or do we just master the art of numbing ourselves to the pain their memories bring up on most days?

A Mental And An Emotional Drain.

After months of me wishing that I hadn't deleted his number, "A" messaged me.
Now that he has, I don't know what to do about it.
I know, I want to meet him, but what after that?

What did I do after seeing his message, you ask?
I replied to him and then I deactivated WhatsApp from my phone.

I had already decided on deactivating it before I even switched to my Austrian number and saw his message.

A part of me did want to wait for his reply, albeit a very teeny tiny part of me.
Honestly, I'm done waiting. I've wanted to deactivate my account for a few weeks now, well ever since the last time I deactivated it. It's just that there was always someone or something I was waiting for.
Truth be told, I should just permanently sign off WhatsApp, because I cannot for the life of me concentrate on writing, when I do use it.
I start writing but I just can't seem to be able to finish what I've started writing.

For example, do you know that I have almost five to six half written posts just lying around that I cannot seem to finish writing?

Apart from that, did you know that I can manage to get sucked into everyones emotions whirlwind.
I don't mind it, but what am I supposed to do if the person doesn't want to talk to me about it?

How do you expect me to help you if you don't tell me what the problem is?

It might sound horrible, but don't such people just drain you- mentally and emotionally?

EIGHTEEN.

I am eighteen. I am eighteen.

It finally hit me.

I AM EIGHTEEN!!

What made me realise it?

My dysfunctional life. 

After so long I feel as if I don't have everything sorted out and that is fine because although I may feel old as fuck, most days of my life. Truth be told, I am still young. Sure I'm not fifteen anymore. You know what? Fuck being fifteen.

Eighteen isn't all that bad either.

I have my career more or less figured out. 

I have an amazing family, who think that the most affective way to wake me up in the morning, is by jumping on me. (I KNOW RIGHT?)

And I have friends, with whom I can talk about anything.

Last but not the least, I finally have a dysfunctional love life. Well, sort-off.

So life isn't all that bad right now. Actually..it's Pretty Freaking Great.

Random picture from the School Life vs College Life video.

Looking Through A Window.

With some people, you will always be looking in from the outside, like looking through a window.

Yesterday I realised that some people never will understand. No matter how much you try to make them understand, they just never will.

It isn't even their fault. They are just incapable of seeing things from your perspective.

Makes you wonder, doesn't it?
Some people just understand you so well. They may be strangers, but still, they are so discerningly familiar. Almost like an extension of you.

The others might have grown up with you but a part of them will always remain foreign to you.

Sometimes two people just aren't compatible but most of the times, it is we ourselves, that build up these walls that prevent people from connecting with us.

The one thing I have learnt is that no matter how many walls you build up, some people just tear through all of them and get under your skin. They just do.

It's the most unexpected people that manage to do that. For example, it might be that boy who sits next to you in the subway, whom you don't really speak to, instead of your childhood friend who supposedly knows everything about you.

With some people, you will always be looking in from the outside, like looking through a window.