Because I’m alone,
I can enjoy the silence.
Even when my many, many, but oh so many thoughts are rambling around as loud as a heavy metal concert.

Because I’m alone,
I realized I have amazing conversations skills.
I mean THE. ABSOLUTE. BEST.
Even though I'm mostly talking to myself.
In my head.

Because I’m alone,
I can read the book I always wanted to finish.
While eating at the corner table of the fast food I decided on.
Alone.

Because I’m alone,
I can play the music I want out loud.
Not worrying about others taste.
Doing the air guitar solo.
Without being weird in anyone's eyes.
But my own.

Because I’m alone,
I don’t have to think about what I say.
Or say what I think.
Or think of what I should’ve said.
Or say anything at all.

Sitting. Eating. Talking. Laughing.
With everyone.
In a group.
Where everyone is everyone’s friend.
I realized that I have always been alone.
Even when I’m not.

Another person has fallen victim to the heartbroken syndrome.
Not me,
but the girl who’s sitting next to me at the bus station at 1 am in the morning.

The first symptoms she showed were slight.
Constantly staring down at her phone.
Desperation seemed to reflect on her face.
As if waiting for something.
A call.
A text.
Anything.

I knew she had reached stage 2 when she abruptly stood up.
Paced back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Not caring about anyone who watched.
Calling someone who clearly would never answer her.
The more she dialed, the more sick she got.

She escalated pretty quickly to the final stage once she bursted into tears.
Looking for reasons as to why everything went wrong.
Sobbing her eyes out.
As her body and feelings gave out.
Letting fall one last tear.
While she gave her last sigh.

She’s not the first victim I’ve seen.
I myself have fallen prey to this disease.
It is an illness that everyone is bound to have,
at least once in their lifetime.

And she will have to learn that,
The only cure,
The only antidote,
The only remedy,
Is time.

To: Past Me
From: Future You

Hello, my past self.
I hope you’re doing well.
But then again,
I know you’re not.
Because I was you,
And you are me.

I know about all the smiles you’ve had to fake.
I know about all the silent tears your pillow is stained with.
I know about all the people you’ve loved and all you’ve lost.
I remember it all.

But listen,
It doesn’t get easier.
You will still go through hard times.
People will still leave you.
You will still feel sad sometimes.

It may not get easier...
But you do get stronger.
Strong enough to overcome it all.
The pain.
The tears.
The obstacles.

Small things won’t hurt you anymore.
Every rock in your way will turn into a pebble.
People will go and others will come.
But you'll be alright.

You’ll grow stronger.
You'll be wiser.
You'll get bigger (not in height though, we shall always be 5’2)
It may not get easier but you will be happy.
Of that I am sure.

So past self I tell you.
Dry your tears. You’re not alone.
You’ll be surprised of all you’ll overcome.
                                                                                         Love,
                                                                                         Future You ;)

Trapped inside my own mind
So many questions with answers I may never find.
Sometimes it’s hard to breathe.
The weight crushes down on me
It threatens to break me,
My strength wanes,
Hope abandons me.

Trapped inside a prison of darkness
My true face hidden behind the mask I’m forced to wear.  
Lying to myself to keep them happy,
Year after year.
Living inside my own head
No-one can hear me shout.
I made this prison myself
Only I can break out.