Let’s play a game, he says.
You have to hit the football on the wall to win.
The catch is, il be in the middle.
If you miss, you’ll be punished.
Penalties, he says. He winks. He laughs.
I kick the ball lightly. Confused at the rules.
He stops it. He winks.
You’ll be punished, he says. Laughing louder.
This isn’t right, I shout.
It’s not wrong, he whispers.
I close my eyes. I cry, I sob.
My wrists are grasped. My mouth is covered.
I was 12 when I broke, when it all began. I was 12 when I was punished.
There’s something brilliant about this.
Something fabulous about finding happiness in someone you never quite expected to.
There’s something heart warming about someone wanting to turn to you in times of their sadness and their joys.
There’s something heart warming in someone begging you to see them because they know you can make them smile.
There’s something so content in me that feels happy that I’ve found a friend in you.
There’s something so peaceful in knowing that we’ve both been through the exact same thing and want nothing more then just a shoulder to cry on for now.
There’s nothing more amazing then finding a friend in a stranger. There’s nothing more exhilarating than watching your loneliness disappear slowly to dust ❤️
I just wish there was a way that I could write everything down and with each word the pain would slowly leave me too..
But it doesn’t… every word digs deeper.
I’ve got so much in me right now, I don’t think no amount of talking, writing, screaming or crying is going to help.
I just want to be done for a while. I want a break from this feeling just for a little while.
For months I’ve been waiting for closure.. just something, anything to make it easier to move on.
And all this time I realised it’s not you I need closure from. It’s myself.
My heart hurts because I feel like I’m not good enough. I’m a bad person. I’m panicking because I don’t think anyone will ever love me. I feel nervous around people because I know they will leave me one day.
I’m scared to fall again, because I don’t think il be able to pull myself back up.
I don’t know how to love myself. I don’t know how to love myself when it just hurts. I don’t know how to keep anyone in my life anymore.
A house has four walls.
A home has connected hearts.
Home is where the heart is, and here I found my home with you.
I found my home in your warmth and in your care. Your love, your hopes and your dreams.
I found my home in your sympathy, your humility, your selflessness.
I found my home in your frustration, your pain, your anger.
I found my home in your smile, your frown, your tears,
I’ve lived a lonely life, with a hole in my heart until I met you.
I found my home in you.
I feel no pain, it disguises itself well.
My demons await me, their weapons are poised.
Ready to draw blood, with no limits to the damage they want to cause.
The fear of others abuse, is nothing compared to how I abuse myself.
The games I play, telling myself I’m good enough. Mocking myself to the fullest.
I am nothing but a pawn in this game of evil. Nothing but a pawn that deserves the damage coming it’s way.
I know You know what I’m thinking but I can not turn to You.
I can not face You and I can not beg for mercy for the mistakes I’ve made.
I am not worthy of the gift You gave me and I threw it back in Your face. I am not a worthy believer.
I did not deserve all that You gave me and I do not know how to face You again.
I’m scared of the tests You will bestow with me next. I don’t believe I’m capable of putting up with anymore.
I now know the answer to “why me?” I do not blame anybody but myself.
I want to face it before I’m too late but it’s never enough. My heart doesn’t want it, my heart doesn’t want this.
You may watch me break and fall but I will not come return to You.
This dunya was not designed for me. I was not made to cope with this.
Give me the strength to leave this mentality and bring me back to You. Give me hope in my life.
Ya Allah. Save me from leaving You.
Imagine a banana at the bottom of the fruit bowl that’s started to rot and yet you choose not to throw it away. You carry on buying more fruit, you cover the banana and the fruit bowl looks fresh and colourful.
But you know the banana is still rotting below. And everytime you fear that the rotten banana is going to show, you buy more fresh fruit to cover up the horrid sight.
The longer you leave it, the worse it becomes. It starts to blacken, leaves a horrible smell and maybe even ruin the bowl.
What’s a banana got to do with mentality? It’s exactly the same..
You have an experience you can’t cope with.. what’s the easiest thing to do? Block it out. Do something else. Buy a new car, fancy clothes, flash jewellery.. but that doesn’t help resolve your situation.. it just blocks it out.
And one day when you have to go back to that same situation.. when you have to face everything that you’ve been putting off.. it will hurt so much more. You let it rot in your mind for so long, you’ve exhausted yourself mentally, exhausted yourself by putting so much effort into blocking it out and now it’s even worse than before.
And it hurts like hell.
Your mind is begging for refuge.
Your mind is begging to break free from the trap you’ve locked yourself in.
There’s no shame in feeling beautiful in yourself without being vain.
There’s no shame in leaving the house with a naked face and feeling happy.
Theres no shame in holding the one you love a little bit too long.
There’s no shame in begging for forgiveness to the people you have wronged.
There’s no shame in lying alone in your room with mascara running down your face when things get too much.
There’s no shame in screaming at the top of your lungs when the pain inside you is physically too much.
There’s no shame in admitting that you can’t cope alone, that you can’t physically bear the pain. There’s no shame in asking for help.
There’s no shame in being weak. There’s no shame in being broken.
But the way he made me feel is something that is stuck inside me like the blood running through my veins.
The comfort I felt when he held me was like I was home. There was no emptiness inside me, no anxiety of the future, no overthinking in the past. It was him in that moment, the moment I was home.
The kindness of him kissing my forehead. To tell me he needed nothing in return, nothing but a simple sign of affection. Which was enough. It was enough to keep me hooked and engulfed in his smell. The smell of his neck. The fresh smell of his skin.
It was the warmth of his hands enveloping my fingers. Taking in every part of my hand. Blanketing my skin with the feel of his, stroking the base of my wrist with his thumb.
It was his head resting on my chest. Feeling like he belonged to me. The false sense of security, of love. Thinking he was mine.
That’s what runs through my veins like blood. Everyday like a cycle. My heart pumps out for more.. And it can’t let go of the way he made me feel.