I have this pet peeve of revisiting scars. Some things should have just ended years ago.
I'm still trying to stand at my own two feet. Still adjusting to discover my true self. Still trying to resist picking the scabs of my wounds that should have been left as scars.
I still go to bed feeling empty, no matter how tired I was prior to heading to bed.
I still have doubts that I can be loved, and deserve to be truly loved. Somehow I always feel there is something that stops me from being loved.
Am I doomed to be content towards being single until the end of time?
I had a dream of writing a book upon finding my uttermost happiness. I had a dream of drawing out the sweetest feeling, sweeter than a candy once I tasted the bliss. I always believed that I could feel that way if I found my other half which brings happiness to another level. But slowly I have to learn to accept that there can be no one but myself to bring joy upon myself.
Until then, I shall enjoy feeling happy from other ways possible.
Until then, I will always ask myself this one question: Is finding the right person who loves you deeply madly truly for who you are, naked inside out the uttermost happiness in your life?
I forgot when is the last time I ever smiled so sweetly I could feel the corners of my mouth near my ears.
Cool, blue emotions painting my soul despite the bright sunny day.
