Crossing spaces; Pouring cement.

It's true what they say about clearer sight as you get older.

I can't say that I learnt anything in particular after such a crushing year,
But at least I see things better and I feel like I understand people more now.

I never did get to tell you about how, on one specific day I'd been too upset
And I ended up opening up to my brother-
Only to find out that he's been through the exact same things, even up to getting his testimonial withheld from him on the last day of school.
The only difference is, he had it much worse;
And he only got his testimonial back after finding it out two years later or something.

We used to be really close as kids,
But stuff happened and I was too young to understand his pain
So we gradually turned into roommates who simply existed under the same roof.

These two years have been different- and somewhat transformative
in that I've never cried as much over anything,
And that we've gotten much closer- I finally get why he was such a douchebag in the past
And I finally get why it took him so many years to recover.

Even now
I see fragments of his past plaguing him
And in him, I see ambition, an attempt to fight his past- and courage.
He has friends who are normal people (save for the few questionable personalities)
And he's trying to do something with his life.

I used not to respect him because he's morally loose sometimes,
And I won't go into the details of the things he does-
But I only ever used to see his inertia in life and happy-go-lucky attitude as something shallow and a product of laziness.

I can't say the same now;
I can't,
Not when I finally have a brother  and he seems so human to me,
Not when I feel like I want to help him someway in the mountain trips that he's organizing.

Sometimes carefreeness arise from dark places,
And it's not always apparent.

That connection at least is one thing that I've gained.


.
And just now,
I rewatched Perks of Being a Wallflower again.

It used to only be a 'sad movie',
But somehow it made me collapse into fits of tears because

It just hits so close to home.

I didn't go through abuse, or extreme bullying, or develop a mental illness
But I know what it's like to be so sad and messed up and lonely
To wish only for friendship,
To be on a downward spiral pattern.

And now that graduation is over:

I needed to hear from Sam that it does get better,
I needed to go through the process of coming to terms with your past and labelling it as what it is-

Because sometimes we convince ourselves that the past is over and done with-
But we can't even call bullying, 'bullying';

And when we finally figure that name out
It's a wound all over again.

I didn't think that I'd relate as much to a movie I once thought of as a mere literary product;
I didn't think that I'd need to hear
That although all these moments will become stories one day,
It is still happening;
Those moments are not just stories-

And that one day
I'll get to look at myself
And not see myself as just  a sad story;

I will feel,
Infinite.


.
Just yesterday I came to the realisation that even though
Just over a month ago I was feeling like things were never getting better;
That I didn't feel like doing anything with my life,

These few days the excitement of having the A levels end are finally creeping up on me;
I'm starting to make lists and plans of what I want to be doing after the coming Wednesday's 3pm;

I'm starting to feel alive again.


And I hope my life gets better,
Because I won't just be lazing around for the next eight months;
I'm going to be trying things and putting myself out there.


But there is this physical space that I'll have to cross,
Because some days I still can't fall asleep

This entire week I've been sleeping at 2.30-4.30;


And some other days I sleep at 3 or 4am;
I start feeling empty and sad again
And I wonder if my past defines my future,

I wonder if I'll ever reach the milestones that I've set for myself;


I wonder if I'll ever find a place to belong;
Some good friends and the realisation of my passions and dreams.


.
I wonder
If I'll still be a sobbing eighteen year old who can't fall asleep till it's three in the morning

If I'll ever
Grow, and finally get on the journey to happiness.

I want to take my time.

I sometimes think that the sadness in me is enough to rip me apart.

Some days,
I get this feeling in my heart

Like sobbing out loud is a necessity,
Because otherwise I really could drown in my emotions.

And then I feel better,
But the reflecting I do about things tear me apart again,

And I am yet again reduced to tears, and tears alone.

It's not about telling someone anymore.

I think,
It's about time I stopped trying to 'get over' things when I'm still stuck here, trying to recover from the consequences of the present.


I think,
That people should stop finding new ways to convince me to 'let go', and 'move on',
Because that's what you do when you don't cry anymore upon recalling certain things;
That's what you do when you really are ready, and capable of,
'Moving on'.

And I'm not ready, nor  am I capable of doing so.

So stop trying to make a miracle out of me and listen,
Listen to the things I have to say.

It's a battle, Healing.
You struggle, and each day feels like a fragile cake that you're trying to bake- and ice- all at the same time. Only that's not how the rules of baking- or healing- goes,
And you end up with a sludgy mess on your hands.

Please understand that I am not content to keep weeping without trying to change my situation for the better,
That I am not pitying myself for what I've gone through,
And that I really am trying to get better.

Still, you don't recover overnight.

There are relapses,
You try to be better, and for a while you are- till the wave of emotions hit you again, and you're back where you started.

You go into this cycle of 'I'm all patched up' and 'I'm still screwed up',
And sometimes it takes telling someone about what happened to trigger a new breakdown;
Sometimes it takes seeing the ones who screwed you up, happy.

Either way,
Please understand that I will be better in the future,

But the last time I tried to rush 'getting over things',
I ended up in denial about bullying;
I ended up in a year of seclusion
And I ended up with a loss of faith in people.

That's why
I want to take things at my own pace this time.

If I ever get upset again,
I'll cry and treat myself to all my favourite things to feel better.
If I ever lose sleep again,
I'll not try to force it
And accept that sometimes, that's what happens when you get too exhausted to sleep.

If I ever
Felt like things were hopeless again,

I'll try not to force optimism

And I'll face my bruised heart as it is.



.
A lot has happened since graduation, you see.

I spent the last few days of school talking to a classmate, a cca mate, and a teacher.
I learnt loads of things I didn't know before,
Things like the fact that it wasn't just the group leader- but my former, only friend of two years who worked together to spread all those rumours about me, things like how people in my class detested me for both that- and the fact that I speak well, and they labelled me 'pretentious' for 'speaking in proper sentences with proper enunciation', for 'not code-switching'.
I am quoting those words, you see.

And it struck me that rumours are hurtful and all-
But what's worse is the fact that you have to combat profound loneliness in facing a national exam because of such an injustice,

And that I'd faced so much hostility for such a nonsensical reason- that my strength in public speaking has yet again been used against me.

Things like how even on the last day of school
A classmate (I'm pretty sure I know who it is)
Deliberately didn't pass me my SGC- because, you know. Reasons.
I had to be alert and careful about announcements- otherwise I wouldn't have known about the same few people who're still trying to screw me over, even to the very end.

Things like my cca mate telling me that what happened back when I was fourteen-
Was 'bullying',
And the truth had hit me,
Hit me like a cruel bus accident
Because then now I'm forced to really see them not as bad friends-
But monsters, fiends who really, really screwed me up.

Things like how this one classmate became unbelievably nice to me the last two days of school,
But I quickly sensed that it was one of those 'I want to leave without regrets or guilt' kind of situation, and that these were not friends- just selfish people who are easily swayed by rumours- and yet I'd spent an hour telling her the truth- sobbing to the point of being unable to speak- not wanting to be dramatic, but really failing to contain my emotions.


Well,
Things like that.

I wept and I sobbed; there were times where I couldn't seem to speak
But still I eventually got better these past few weeks- because that's what opening up does:
It helps you to- Deal.

And I'm still left with 1 and a half A level subjects,
I'm still 80% sure I'll have to retake the exam

But at least I'm really, really, starting to mend.

I don't feel so broken anymore,

But I really don't want to rush it.