The poison called love.

In the matters of love and crap I was never the one to be open or approachable about it. I was always way to shy and way to giving. I would sacrifice my crush for my friend or maybe just because the person I like, likes someone else. I never knew how to be approachable and eventually I just gave up. I focused on my larger than life sized dreams. 

But every now and then I look around and see my friends cuddling with their respective others and I start to feel like how lonely I am or might I say how lovely I have been all my life. How detached I’m to everyone and everything. Honestly, I don’t even realize that when most of the times I go out with my friends that I almost certainly am just third wheeling. For the most of the time though I am just so up in my head that I never even seem be a tiny bit bothered by it or the fact that I might But maybe for once I’d like to be special to someone and not just be invisible all the god dammit time. I’d like to feel that connect of trust and have a healthy commitment to another humam. To love and to be loved. To share my pizza with.

But you know why all these things are not possible for me? Because I’m scared. I’m scared of humans and scared of what a person can to me. The sense of being week and venerable all the time. Knowing that this one person could have immense power over you, this one little substance of the universe could break your whole soul into million pieces and healing was never my strongest pursuit, So I just eventually gave up because this feeling of euphoria comes at a greater cost of being lost forever in the abyss of darkness called love. 



How do you describe a person? Do you mention their hair, their eyes, nose, mouth, height, thin/fat? Does that help us to picture them, picture their character? Does that help us in knowing who they are, or is it just our artificial way of describing someone because we are too shallow or too scared to know the real person behind those layers of deceiving information. Is a human just what his/her features or are we more than that? Are we beyond the illusion of skin, name, face, region, religion?


I often wonder that do we know the people with whom we spend our lives with? Our friends, neighbors, family or we just assume who they are. Knowing your best friend’s birthday doesn’t means that you know who that person is. We assume we know, we assume their struggles. ‘we assume’.


Everyone like to think of themselves as special, as something good, something right. Someone who is the center of the universe. My life matters, everything that is happening around here is happening for me. Everything is me. We don’t realize that it’s not true. Lies, lies, lies. It’s all we are and all we tell each other and ourselves. Most of us don’t even take time to look at ourselves or some of us are too scared to know of the kind of person they are.


 We like to live a life and look at it the way we want and not in a way it is. And what a horrifying place is this? Everyone is trying to be good for themselves. Looking after themselves, drenched in our feeling to even try understand others. Always looking at our goodwill and how someone is doing wrong to us but too scared to see what we are doing to others. My problem is huge. Others shouldn’t have problem with having their minimal, non-existing problems.


It’s all just about me, me, me.


 ==>     A little bit of me.    <==

follow me on Instagram @the_invisible_girls_dream