I just feel like my previous posts had been mostly negative. It is easy to write about painful things, because the heart overflows and the will spill unto paper. I write about it and feel so much better afterward. But you know, my life is not all gray, and I wanted to keep this clear.
Right now I am living my life as a SEO writer and student. My job does not pay much, and it eats time to do but its very fulfilling for me. I also got an excellent scholarship for a teaching program with allowances. My status if not financially abundant but it would do.
My boyfriend had always been sweet and would text and call at different intervals of the day. “Do you need anything? Do you need me to print stuff for you? I love you.” Bless his heart. Being mostly an independent woman, I would say no thank you. I am okay. I love you too.
It’s just sometimes the lonely emotion dawns on me in the most mundane locations. Like while standing in the grocery aisle of yogurts and dairies, a sudden exhaustion overcomes me, as if I had lived for too long. It is often a drastic perceivable change, and people seeing me in this mood can tell my tiredness by the slump of my shoulders and the darkness under my eyes. “Aubs, you look like you need rest.”
I am okay really. After moping a little bit I voluntarily shake this off by emerging myself in music, podcasts and work. Lots of these. Enough for me to lack time to think of negative thoughts and feel accomplished. Work makes me happy. Then the cycle begins again.
When my boyfriend told me that he will be taking steps to go to Australia, my first reaction was shock. He always talked of going there to study, but in my mind I had tucked it away as an event far away. And yet here it is.
My next emotion was rage. How could he leave me? How could he? But he was not leaving me, he is just going to another country to study. I know that. Fuck, I know that! But the rage became hot and burning tears. They flowed uncontrollably and unreasonably.
I struggled to accept it and become supportive. So I swallowed my tears and they mixed in my blood like poison. I continue with my life. I don't say anything.
"Let your soul take you where you want to be. Only then you can belong to me."
I am often emotional. I wept to the random melodies. The purposeless remarks about love. I wept everyday without telling. And as my secret sentiment grew, I feel like it is eating me and my part of our relationship.
I wonder if he had noticed the sliver of ice that had crawled into my heart. People say that the opposite of love is hate. No, its apathy, the absence of any emotion. A void. A gaping, growing void that threatens to eat everything in its wake.
I write it here because I wanna feel a little comfort. I don't wanna say anything because what kind of person I am to stop him from leaving? I doubt if he understands. After all, he is not the one to be left behind.
“Do I look lonely?”
As I listened to the song “Death of a Bachelor” by Panic! at the Disco while I sat alone in the middle of the night, I can’t help feel life’s irony.
What is love for? I thought love is the cure to loneliness. Instead here I am trying to jump around to avoid murky lonely puddles.
“Smile even though you are sad.”
My questions isn’t the same as yours, Brendon. Right now I just feel like I have been sitting alone for a table for two for too many times. I am sorry that I am not the type to ask for help.
Is this fitting for a happy ever after? How dare I to ask for more? Please do not blame the song. The fault is mine. I am inherently lonely most of the time.
Lately I have been going to essays.ph to earn a little money. It’s a website which hires freelance writers. As a writer you can write articles depending on your taste. Not only articles, but you can also get ebook writing jobs.
I have been writing articles for almost two weeks now. To my great sadness, I have only been getting rejected. The common comments of the editors were “typos, awkward sentence construction and grammar lapses.”
I can excuse myself and say that I have not been writing officially for two years. (And by officially, here I meant under any publication.) But that lapse is still my fault. My skills have slipped. Or maybe I am not as good in writing as I thought I am.
I still love writing. It has always been my primary mode of expression. It’s just sad that I am bad at doing what I love.
Maybe I am a bad writer. But that’s alright. I will still write not for the money, not for the editors but for me. I will not stay as a bad writer all my life. If I work hard and practice I am bound to get better. As Janet Hulstrand once said “Bad writing precedes good writing. It is an infallible rule. So do not try to avoid it.”
Bad writer or not I will write. I will write as I breathe.
Photo retrieved from: http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/5698207