Good Things Are Usually Sad

Was it the lowered head,
Or the sad smile?
Was it the arms wrapped around the little frame,
Or the quietness of the voice?
What was it that attracted someone like you,
So full of life,
To someone like me,
So full of pain?

MeeshaSlays

The Girl Who Loved – The Girl Who Was Wronged.

Dear Boy,
See, this is why I used to say that you won’t stick around for long. That you’ll eventually leave. Isn’t that exactly what you did? 
You can deny it all you want – hide from it all you want – but the truth will remain as steady as the sail on a windless day. 
I’ve never met anyone more confused and confusing as you. I don’t know what happened. 
One day we were great and the next, we weren’t. 
I really just wish you could have told me all and I would have let you go freely. I wouldn’t have bounded you if you hadn’t wanted to stay. How I hope you had understood this. Especially after I told you explicitly how I didn’t appreciate you doing things like this. That I wanted 100% transparency or nothing at all. That I wasn’t up for games. 
All you had to do was tell me – say it to my face – and I would have been fine. I would have really let you go. I’ve been down this road enough times to know what I want and I’m done wasting my time on people who wouldn’t consider spending some of their own with me. I shouldn’t have to beg for your time – nor should any other girl. 
It should be given willingly and freely. It should be given because you want to, not because you have to. 
But now, here I am, far from fine. I know I’ll eventually be fine. But ‘fine’, right now, seems impossible. I hope you find peace and whatever else it is that you’re looking for. Pray that I find my peace and closure too. 

Take care.
From,

The Girl Who Loved –

The Girl Who Was Wronged.

#NoteToSelf

I just wanted to add something to this piece that I read on The Artidote, written by Sue Zhao.

I take a lot of pleasure in finding little things that have been rejected by others; the outcasts, the crumpled pages, the torn masterpieces, the bleeding hearts and the damaged and the broken.

I don’t know what it is about the damaged and the broken but they have a special lure to them. Beware, for if you have tasted it once, you won’t ever be able to untangle yourself from its grasp.

The lure engulfs you completely and becomes a part of your very soul. I think this is why damaged people, damaged goods – damaged anything, basically – gets ignored so much; because people can’t give a part of their souls to become addicted to something of this significance, beauty, and depth.

This grasp isn’t suffocating, mind you. It’s addictive; the type that reminds you of a lover’s warm embrace on a cold rainy night of December.

One must ask himself this: why shouldn’t ordinary be extraordinary? What is the standard differentiating the two? Why must there be a standard, if at all?

If we advocate our views on equality in genders and populations, why don’t we talk about equality in types and characteristics? About how no characteristic is better than any other? Why is it not possible for you to be extraordinary if you’re just an ordinary persons but with a good heart?

Ask yourself this question today: WHY?

✍🏼 by @meeshaslays