Days like these

I'm tired.

So fucking exhausted.

Putting the word fucking here because just typing 'So exhausted' doesn't truly express what I am going through right now.

I think I know what people mean that you always need someone to at least talk to and it's in moments like these, that I really wish I had someone to just share, and bitch, and grumble and talk about how exhausted we both are.

The days are getting better because I'm numb enough to forget I even exist as a person... it's those sleepless nights which have begun again.

I wake up puffy eyed and just want to go in a corner, curl up, put the blankie over Anna and me and hide.

That miserable feeling has crept itself in somehow and I don't have the time to address it anymore.

While coming to work today, I thought to myself: Chelsea, if someone asked you what is love, you'd say?

Love is a lost feeling.
Love is always having to let go.
Love is always being asked to turn the other cheek.
Love is always being not good enough.

Because Love isn't enough.

p.s: Written on a manic Friday where I've had no time to breathe and been constantly on the verge of tears so I thought I'd just write away my blues.

One of those lost feelings

There are some days, weeks, months and even years where I've had to dig down, real deep to remove the self pity that will start reeking outta my pours and find some self compassion.

The things my mind thinks, the way it wanders into obscure tangents... I hate being in this place. I hate being weak, I hate being unsure, and more than anything I hate having to tell my mind that I will not settle for anything or anyone less than I deserve.

But what do you deserve, Chelsea? Who are you to decide? How do you know what your desires are?

I'm so afraid of free falling again. Keeping a tight rein means never having to be or feel vulnerable which defeats the very purpose of love.

Uneasiness is slowly settling in and I'm not liking watching life pass me by this way.

I just hate this perpetual lump stuck in my throat, this putting my head down and having to walk away all the time, this constant having to eat humble pie, being made to feel like it's not worth responding to what I have to say.

And then comes time, playing her flute, making it easier to breathe.

It's not someone saying I hate you that kills - even hate is a feeling. It's the indifference. And I hope if you ever do go through it, you have the wisdom to know how much you matter and that you are second to no one.

"Ray of Sunshine" moment

Surprisingly though, not as miserable me, as I thought it would be.

To be honest, I did expend a dime a dozen grey cells but I'm starting to get a hang of this whole perspective business.

I told someone I 'kinda like' him.

His response: Why are you doing this to me.

Mine: Silence

My first reaction really was: I snorted, then giggled and then full blown laughter for two whole minutes.

Till reality settled in and I went into comfortable numb mode to analyse what I was feeling.

Was I hurt - yes. It was obvious though he wasn't interested. Yet that tiny demon - HOPE.

Me being me, I hate assuming and needed crystal clear clarity so I can pack up my mojo and giddy up and go.

It's taken me awhile to put myself out there. And it is a great feeling.

But some more analysis was done - should I feel bad?

Heck, NO!

Here's a guy telling me and I'm sure there are a million others like him, how he's no catch and then someone comes along (re: Moi) telling him he's a great guy and can we get to know each other - and he clams up.

I guess when they say, "I'd like to get to know you better" - it means between the sheets only.

But then I also think of the Harami quotient that's in me when some real swell guys ask me out and I'm like: RUN CHELSEA RUN!!!!

Truth is, if you don't feel it. You just don't. And that doesn't make your feelings (whether yay or nay) any less real.

It's a sad state we live in where people prefer to bellow: I HATE you at the drop of a hat, be it in jest or for real; yet to whisper: I really love you, care about you, you make me smile... you are my sunshine on a cloudy day... would tear you apart, ae?

Well, how's all that hate working for you?

Man, that last good kiss though, was a March ago *sigh*

Now to expunge him. Obliviate!

If I asked you...

Do you wanna build a snowman?

Will you be my adventure?

Even after all this time? 

There's only one correct answer