"I know this is all imagined. That its all in my head but I need closure. Whether it's with you or some mental part of me I need closure.
I've fallen deep in love with this girl. She makes me smile and happy but parts of you pull me away from giving her my all. By parts of you I mean the stains you left. The bruises of trust issues, the third degrees of insecurity and scars. So many scars of I know you're going to leave me soon", I bowed my head and clenched my fists.

"You broke me and left me to pick the pieces. You broke me and left me to blame myself for them. I felt as if I wasn't good enough or that I am not capable of loving someone. That I am only here to cause pain", my voice cracked.

"I need to understand why. Because I can't accept you hurt me when I was the one left in corners crying because of the way you were emotionally and mentally destroying me", I cleared my throat

"Please make me understand", the sounds of desperation roared from my voice.

She sighs and sits on the floor with her legs criss crossed. She plays with the hem of her red shirt and sighs again.

"I'm in your head. An illusion you set in your head to answer such questions. But will I really help you", she grazes her fingers on her bottom lip.

"I mean I'll basically be telling you the words you want to hear. I'll be filling your mind and heart with it was all my fault and you did nothings. But what if the reality is you did hurt me. Would you expect me to tell it to you then?" She cocked her head and laughed.

"I've had people call me an ******* for not treating you right. I tried to explain to them. But I never understood it. I didn't respond a text. I couldn't because I so emotionally drained for a month. You didn't want to talk to me. For once in my entire life I just couldn't. I was tired. But that doesn't mean I ran away or tried to hurt you. For all we know I went to sleep. But you. You told people I started to ignore you.Started to treat you like ****. But all I ever did was love you. With each and every part of me, when I needed you. You brushed me off, you turned me against a lot of people. Caged me in. But I stayed. Why didn't you stay when I was suffering the most. Why did you walk away?", I cleared my throat and hunched my back
"Why?", my voice cracked.

"The truth. The one you were trying so hard to be blind to. The I love yous' felt forced to you. They didn't feel real but you brushed them off, the way I would look at you didn't feel right. But your craving and need to find love made you blind to all those. The truth and the only truth was I never loved you in that way. Maybe you were a rebound, I was just up for having fun", she stood up and dusted herself off.

"That's all", she walked away

Many people consider travelling around the world
to be an adventure.
You see some place, the picture is there and that's it.
Where is the adventure there?
Talking to an individual discovering their characteristics,
manners,
thoughs,
patterns,
habits,
lovers.
Unravelling the most mysterious to science and never mentioned in religion-BRAIN.
The best adventure ia having a deep converstation
Caused by unstoppable sensation
To feel someone else's abyss.
Seems like our thoughts are the never ending
And always reacurring treasure we are looking for.
Dig and dig and dig..
Most of them are afraid what are they going to do with so much treasure.
Unable to whield it and create a better future with their vivid imagination
They leave it alone, wondering behind a dark door, locked away in their mind always beeing there for their master-like a ******* dog.
Good thing I am a sinner so my mind doors are black-darknes can't absorb my colored imagination.
No matter how hard you try to hold the door closed, your colors will always try to get out.
You can't run away from who you are.
One shall always strike to unravel him or herself
After all, we wouldn't have exsisted if all our layers were on.
If that is the case, then why am I walking around
Never seeing a person with deep intellectual knowledge ?
Why aren't they asking themselves the major questions?
Why aren't they looking for meaningful lovers?
Why aren't they appreciating the loyal friends?
The ability to learn should have been given to
Snails, they would've been faster in discovering themselves than we humans are.

Eye converstation
pulls me out of frusteration.
Don't know where I've landed,
but frankly,
I don't care.

And he's taking me back,
God,
He's taking me back.
And honestly,
I'm a little scared.

We've started talking in code
Caught on so **** fast
Words don't even matter
and neither does our past.

His actions speak louder than his words ever will,
no doubt in the fact I want to swallow him like a pill,
because I'm sure I could trip on him forever.

Could I please trip on you forever?

Mountain Road,
Soft rain buzzed gently down,
From the milky sky,
With the smell of mint chocolate chip ice cream,
Onto a pleasant little blue car,
That crept down the sloping turns,
While the two passengers chatted,
About their lives.

Their yipping little dog,
The mother-in-law's fried chicken,
At Sunday dinner,
A trip to San Francisco.

With the converstation drifting,
Over their warm interlocked fingers,
And the radio hummed a song,
That they both liked,
As the open mouth of a tunnel,
Swallowed their little car,
And the rain remained outside,
While they kept talking,
About their life together.

October 26th
Leaving Nagoya.
I woke at 5 a.m., drifted for 30 minutes, feeling stranded, then dragged myself out of bed. It’s nearly November, yet the air still clings, stifling. My hair presses against my neck, sticky and suffocating.
I wish for your happiness—and for ours, though it’s a distant wish.

Wendy brought me breakfast. We’ve known each other less than ten days, exchanged few words, yet I feel her warmth toward me.
It’s alright. I’m a good person, capable of kindness.

I hugged Roberto again and again, sensing the parting lingered heavy on his heart.
He said, “The reason he called you ‘Sunshine’ is because you’re still his Sunshine.”
Keeping the truth hidden, maybe, was love.
Romantic love? I don’t know.
But even if I chased it, what could I find?

The subway to Nagoya Station was as stifling as ever. The discomfort trailed me even as I reached the station.
People standing too close, crossing boundaries of seats—every small thing grated on me.
Nagoya, on my last day, felt emptier than ever.

I keep searching for reasons why he was meant for me.
This is a passing goodbye; it’s God’s plan that we’ll meet again one day.
That’s the gentle lie wrapping around me like a warm blanket, shielding me from the raw truth.

These feelings, this sadness—surely, they will fade.
No matter how tightly I clutch them, how I weave them into my fingers, time will seep in, washing them away.
The memories I longed to keep, the pain I wished desperately to forget.
In Eternal Sunshine, the hero can’t bear the breakup’s sting and chooses to erase his memories. If I could, I’d do the same.
Roberto says, “Someday, you’ll find new love, and then realize that this love wasn’t true. This memory will be just one lesson in your life.”
A brief pain in the vastness of life.
One day, I might see this sadness as small, trivial, laughable. I might think I loved someone unworthy.
But now, what I feel is real, and I truly loved him.
I wish we could have been happy together. But it’s also partly true that his happiness is enough. If I can’t stand beside him, then at least he should be happy.

When I think of his new girl, my chest feels weighted and dull. A girl, just like I was, swept away by him, radiant and innocent, fulfilled by love.
I’m not strong enough to wish for her happiness, so I’ll let them both disappear from my life, hoping to regain myself.

Eight months—a fragment of time.
I can fill that space; one day, I’ll forget.
Wishing it gone and at the same time wishing it were just a dream.
I loved him, gained something, lost something.
What I lost will heal, what I gained will be part of me, shaping who I’ll become.
Everyone I’ve loved—they all live in me.

With the next person, surely, I’ll love deeply.
I dream of a stranger who will erase his memory, a happiness waiting, carrying me through this long night.
Was the world always this gray?
Back then, the world was bright.

On the bullet train, typing this, Daphne messaged me. She hopes Kyoto will bring me peace and that therapy has softened the edges of my heart. She says she loves me.
I didn’t reply yesterday.

But I know. She and I love each other. Kuma and I love each other. Takako and I love each other. Even Simon, who I burdened long ago, checked in on me during Natalia’s crisis, and now he listens to my broken love stories for hours.
Whatever I do, whoever I am, there are people who love me, unchanging.
My parents, Roberto, Wendy—all showing their kindness in different ways.
Some people leave; others stay.
He left; now, I leave too.
But somewhere in time, in a past beyond grasp, we once truly cared for each other. That won’t disappear.

When will the world regain its colors?
It won’t be far away. I’ll love again; someone will leave, and some will remain forever.

Layers of rosy memories and gray pain.
Stacking, fusing, that’s what will become me.
Blending into one, until I can’t see who I was or who I am, it shapes me still.
The past I’ve forgotten lives on as my flesh and blood.
My memories of him will mix with others, his outline fading, becoming me.
By then, I won’t remember him.
That future is sad, but I welcome it.