Oh, just reading.. 📚👓💁
Couple of years ago, leaving was mutual. I remembered being on the couch with my past and we decided that it was time to move on. Looking at the clock ticked away, I watched the hand move. It was not even 7 yet. However, we knew it was time to say goodbye. The very thing I remembered, in which I actually wrote a poem about few years later, was sitting on the couch with my past. Then, he stood up, got his backpack, ready to leave. I stood up and hugged him. The very last one I can get from him, and then I let go.
Watched him descend from the stair steps. I remembered holding on to myself that time. I sobbed and cried alone on the couch. It was my first heartbreak. My first official end of a relationship. Listening to him put on his shoes ready to leave my house; it was like the scratching of nails on a chalkboard. It was dreadful.
On what was on my mind during the event, I do not remember. It was like I did not think of anything but focused on my heartbreak, and the end of my relationship. It was very difficult.
The pros of leaving was letting go of an unhealthy relationship. Breaking free of the “clinginess” I brought myself into. Lastly, it made me closer to God and my family. The cons… well the cons were the flashbacks I am dealing with currently.
Even now three years later, my mind still remembers and contemplates. This is something I am going to admit and only to you my readers, maybe… just maybe… I am not over him. However, I have moved on. I have accepted that… that was the end of the relationship. But every day he is on my mind, and sometimes he has cameo appearances in my dreams.
He left my life, but my mind has clung to him. No matter how hard I try to push those memories aside and erase him from my daily thoughts, he still shows up, and I do not know when this will stop. I tried. I still am trying…
This is jasminedelacerna, signing off ❤
To learn more about photographs, poetry, and proses about leaving: click here
Since I started reading complex fiction, it has now come to my attention that my mind is rather fascinated by stories including histories, time travels, real-life underlying problems as opposed to my usual high school life reads.
I guess if I let myself read something out of my usual, progressing my mind with every book, going back to the “easies” are rather boring. They become uninteresting, as I endlessly flip through virtual pages waiting for the story to end.
It may have something to do with my age though… I am almost 21 and obviously my interests are growing too. Dramas are always welcome, but I guess the settings and the underlying situations are the most significant factors here.
My mind is uninterested into high school chatters, gossips, and puppy loves. Well.., maybe puppy loves I supposed are only interesting when there is an immense dilemma in action. A war maybe… A reincarnation… Time Travels? Mind Puzzling Crimes? Illnesses focusing on living life to the fullest..
However, those silly loves are only but for a moment on those stories. Those stories are usually engrossed with such time and emotion that if love is focused, it is the pure and rich kind. The love where you know is worth keeping.
So to my best of abilities, I am going to diligently find books in the future, that is approved by my progression. Reading on the “easies” may be a break, from the rich complexities of the intelligent writers, but they do not seem to fascinate me (not anymore). They are just I guess nothing but “breaks” nowadays.
We wonder up above the sky, yelling “what kind of blue are you?” Staring beyond the universe questioning how stars could shine so bright. Variations of yellow and oranges we come to label as the sunrise and sunsets, and the sprinkles from the heavyhearted clouds telling us that they too need release. The polychromatic rainbow curve just above the clouds and its reflection bouncing back to the earth, scientists has come to label as prisms. These are all the beauty of the universe. Beauty nature has given us since the world began.
However, these beautiful creatures above our heads could also be a beautiful disaster. Disasters so beautiful, even death itself are approached by aimless souls. This motherly nature turns her back to us, and we are swept by calamities. We are blindsided by its beauty, or maybe… just maybe… we did the heavens wrong or mother nature in this case. So we are doomed for destruction. The once beautiful sunshine is now covered up with thick dark clouds as it precipitates above us. Lightning and thunder flashes and rumbles, shaking our faiths as we cry for dear help.
The fascination on how such beauty can become horrid is absolutely existent. We stare at the innocent clouds one day and we question its very purpose asking, “Are you here to hold up the sky or are you just waiting for everything to explode from your bottled up fluff?”
– jasminedelacerna ❤