I can't tweet about these, I can't tell anybody too. The only way I can do is write them out, and try to save myself a little.

Mommy came into my room earlier, and she asked what's wrong with you, you haven't been talking, you are not happy anymore, did something happened these couple of days? And I lost it, I was on the verge of tears. After all, she's the most important person to me on earth, and I'd wanted nothing less than her worrying over me.

"I'm fine." Are you cold? Are you tired? Is it because you've been spending too much time in school? 

I went to the bathroom and cried. Everybody's worried for me, they tried to make me open up, they approached me, they fought hard for my smile. They don't know that I'm living for them. 

It hurts like fuck. He fucking played me out. I wish he didn't lay those hands on me, those filthy hands that violated other girls. I wish he never come close to me again. I wish I never have to see him again.

Everyday, I force myself to wake up to living hell. And go to school. That's the worst part. I know that there are people who need me. I know they will be worried if I ever cry infront of them. So I keep pretending. I avoided whenever I can, I smiled and I did stupid things, I cracked lousy jokes like I always do just so that they feel more comfortable knowing that the chirpy and lively girl is still there. 

Do you know how hard it is for me to wake up these days and convince myself that I can make it? I can't. 

She has been talking to me for the past two nights, it surprises me who i can actually turn to in time of pain. She told me he's just lonely, he just wants to feed on attention, he never did love you, or her, or anyone else. They will get karma for hurting you. But i know they won't. I don't know if there's really karma. Why am i always the one hurt?

She said he's worried about you. Everyone is. The stronger your front, the more worried they are. Tell them what's hurting you, tell them what they did to you. But how can I, where do I begin from?

He wouldn't let me disappear, and I know I will, I have to stop living for others.

It hurts me that he's worried, and he tried to make me speak up, but I lied to him. They wouldn't understand. They aren't the ones waking everyday to an ache in their chest, and having to believe that everything will be fine. It's hell, it's like walking on flames and putting on a smile.

It hurts so bad.

I don't ever want to come back.

Monday, 1:58a.m

These days, I'm on Tumblr a lot. I guess that's where I'll always be at. I stopped blogging for my fashion blog because coursework is over. How do I put my life in retrospective again? It makes me cry just typing like this again, fuck, look at what I'm doing to myself. 

I met a boy. And I fell in love. It wasn't perfect like I've always visioned my love to be, honey. It was hard, and it continues to be. Loving him makes me want to give up a million and one times, it's hard because my love, you're part of the reason why my heart is breaking. He's an optimist, beautiful and courageous. 

I guess I'll still come back to write again. And no, we aren't in a relationship, not officially yet, at least. I break his heart every single time you come back into my mind as a past memory. It's almost a year. I wonder if you look at the gift and think of it, I wonder if you should chuck him away while you empty your contents, throw away every single bit of our memories. No, I still keep all your things with me. I just want to learn to be brave again. 

I had a dream and in the dream I was betrayed by my best friend and when I woke up, my heart was quivering because even as a dream, it scared me so. I kept a little diary, because it was so hard to love someone so right. In the little black book, I write about him, and you, but mostly I write about how happy he makes me, when he makes me cry, I pen it down too. 

Her heart is broken and in pieces. I want to do something about it too, but I realize I don't know how. He needs me to trust him, and I've to stay strong for someone so precious. It's late and I have assignments to work on. Sometimes I wish you'll come back again. I just don't know when you will. Maybe you'll never, and I won't hold a grudge against you, too. 

Tumblr is precious to me because it gives you bits and pieces and remnants of who the person is through what h/she reblogs. I love fashion/I love words/I have a wild child snuggling/I crave love/I'm broken and in pieces/I'm hurt/But I'm hopeful

http://vanitydolls.tumblr.com/

Happy Birthday

Happy 19th Birthday my love.

I'm sorry I couldn't be there.
I'll never get to say this to you in person.

Be happy. Live well.

Invite me to your performance one day, a long time from now.

I loved you so.