That’s not something she does often.

She isn’t the type to walk into a tattoo parlor and point at the first picture she sees. No. If she has something printed onto her, then it’s special. Significant. She thought about it long and hard. She fought to find the perfect design.

And that design means more than you’ll ever understand.

Sure, you could ask her what it is, what it means. But she’ll probably give you the short version. It’s in honor of a period that passed away. It’s a zodiac sign. A symbol from her favorite show or anything. A symbol of something which she has gone through.

She’ll tell you the basics, but she won’t tell you the details. She won’t tell you why that relative was so close to her. She won’t tell you that those song lyrics saved her from depression. She won’t tell you the characters in that book or on that television show were her best friends when she felt like she was all alone in the world.

She won’t tell you any of that, because even though you can see her tattoos, they’re a private thing. If you learned the meaning behind them, you’d learn more about her than she’s comfortable showing you. You’d learn how she ticks, how she feels, who she really is.

Everyone she knows has seen her tattoos — but it’s rare for someone to actually understand the meaning behind them.

And she’s okay with that. She likes it to be her little secret, even though she has to put up with the ignorance of strangers. She has to ignore the mean comments about how she’s a silly fangirl or how she’s going to regret the ink when she’s older.

But she doesn’t let those nasty words bother her, because she knows they’re wrong. She knows how much meaning the tattoo carries. She knows she’ll stand by her decision until the day that she dies.

To her, tattoos are art. Tattoos are strength. Tattoos are part of her identity.

So if a girl gives you more than a one word answer when you ask her why she has ink on her wrist or ankle or hip — if she explains exactly what it means, why she got it, what goes through her head every time she looks at it — then you two must be close. She must really trust you.

Because when she tells you about her tattoo, she’s giving you a piece of herself. She’s exposing her soul. She’s cracking open her heart.

And that’s not something she does often.


You’re are my 5 am Self Mirror

You’re are my 5 am Self Mirror


5 am, when most of the phone calls come to their ultimate end, when most of the students wrap up their books and get to their bed, when I finally feel tired and exhausted of the rest of the world, you are there in the mirror, my 5 am mirror self. When my eyes are dull and dark, when they have absorbed enough of evil and darkness of the world, you are there, a certain glow of my real self.


5 am, when it’s too late to start a new day without any sleep, when it’s too late to hug the pillow and cry myself to sleep, when it’s too late to take up any new task, you are there, my 5 am tired self. It’s that hour when I am the weakest, the loneliest, most honest, the realist and totally begging for some loving. It’s that hour when I lose faith in myself and I don’t trust my self.


5 am, when I look at the empty other half of my bed wondering what you must be doing right now. I try to trace your shadows in the creases of my bed sheets, but I fail to understand that it’s that hour where there is neither the sun nor the moon in the sky leaving alone the darkness to fool the night owls. It’s that hour, my dear, when I hold hands with myself. 


My 5 am mirror self, you’re the only one who’s been with me all this time and you’re the only one who’s going to be with me here after. All those deepest and the most honest feelings I ever had are in this hour coming back to me which I once again silently write down and add to that chapter of my life which shall not be discussed, ever. But just to let you know, my mirror self, this is you. This person under the sheets of your old diary and behind those dull eyes and bad hair is your real self and the only one who is going to live by your side at all times.


My 5 am mirror self, I’d always choose to stay up all night to meet you to remind myself of you.

Are you Scared?

Scared to take a stand for me, when everyone bitched about me? Why? When I could take one for you, why couldn’t you? 

I argued with everyone for you. It was the two of us against the world. But I didn’t see this coming. You were like this black hole – you kept pulling me in with that irresistable force. And I was curious, curious enough to venture into the darkness, to find that one singularity. What I didn’t see was that there was hardly any chance I could get without being ripped apart. Or maybe I did see it, but chose to ignore it. Don’t ask me why. I don’t have an answer to that. 

All I ever knew was that I loved you. And though I knew all along that loving you like that would destroy me, I didn’t back out. Never gave in. On you. On us. 

People said it was supposed to be the other way round – that you were supposed to protect me. But it didn’t happen, of course. I thought we would break all norms. But I guess it didn’t work out. 

My friends hated you for this. All along. And now, when it’s over, they hate you even more. For giving up so easily, just when it was getting started. 

We were almost there, you know. To attain what they call ‘true love’. But just as they say, almost is never enough. And now I know it isn’t. Indeed.

To the One

Hope you remember her. The girl who loved you more than herself, the girl who made you her entire world despite knowing that she was just another contact on your phone who you texted whenever you got tired of your busy life.

May be she was good for your ego, maybe she was some kind of an achievement or a trophy that you could brag about in front of your friends, maybe she was a placeholder, maybe you liked knowing that someone was always available to answer your calls regardless of the time and situation, may be you liked seeing someone trying that hard for you.

There is a whole sea of ‘maybe’s where she is standing right now drowning in her thoughts, questioning her own identity. And she is the only one to be blamed for this because she decided to continue swimming even after hearing the forecast of the coming storm but her mistake was that she considered you as her life guard. You can call her insane for doing what she did, just like what everyone else is saying about her.

Her friends shouted, “Are you blind? He doesn’t love you and never will, why can’t you see what he is doing to you?” Little did they know that she was not blind. In reality, she was a coward, coward enough to accept her mistake.

When you entered her life, she was so terrified to let her guard down, she used to build some kind of a wall around herself so that no one could hurt her, you came and promised her that you will be there to help her and slowly you broke that wall brick by brick. She started to believe that you were her savior.

She finally told you her darkest secrets and let you see her deepest wounds. She told you that she was getting addicted to you, to your presence, to your company, your words and she didn’t want this addiction to turn into love. She suggested that you guys should maintain some distance. But you denied and she trusted you and the timing of her life. You remained at the top of her chatting list. From sweet morning messages to good night texts, you shared every tiny detail of your day with her, you discussed new songs and the lyrics you loved the most, you two talked about sweet nothings all day, all night.

By holding your hand she let you in, without realizing that you were slowly becoming her life. You shouldn’t have made her fall for you when you knew that you weren’t going to catch her

She tried her best to not fall for you but her destiny tried it’s best to make her do exactly that. You always said the right things at the right time till one day she finally realized that you were literally the person she always wanted to be with. With this realization, she switched on her self-destruction mode.

Soon you started changing and she stood there puzzled about your behavior. Your long texts got shorter by the second. Everything about her that you previously admired now irritated the hell out of you. You didn’t have time for her anymore and she started blaming herself, thinking that she may have done something wrong.

She kept waiting day and night to hear from you and you were too busy to hear her break down on the phone.

She kept losing herself every time you didn’t answer her call, every time you chose someone else over her. She was always available for you and that bothered you so you chose your plans over her always. She fought with everyone who said anything bad about you, losing her friends she kept defending you just to be called a “fool” by the end of it all.

Today she is feeling sick and really tired, tired of finding reasons behind everything just to stay with you. You made her believe that she could be ‘someone’s sometimes’ but could never be ‘someone’s forever’.

The journey of loving you was never easy for her, she kept giving up on her self-respect because you were too stubborn to let go off your ego. Finally the day arrived when her biggest fears turned into reality. You decided to leave her by saying, “It’s my mistake, I am sorry.” You know what, your 6 words were enough to tear her apart in a thousand pieces. Nothing can be worse than being called your lover’s mistake, that the best thing that ever happened to you is guilty for you. She still wondered if it would have hurt any less had you just left without naming her pure love as some unforgivable sin of yours.

Every night she cried herself to sleep trying to figure out what went wrong, she still blamed herself for everything. She screamed, why wasn’t she good enough, shouted your name out loud but you were nowhere to be seen. You made a soul die. She loved you, she still does but now it’s time for her to close this chapter and burn the entire book.

One thing I can promise you, you will look for her in the people you love. One day she’ll be the one not answering your calls, one day she’ll just scroll down your post and status because they’ll not matter then or maybe she doesn’t even have to do that because you’ll be in her block list. You’ll search for her hand whenever you feel lost. You’ll miss her voice when you badly want someone to listen to you.

One day you’ll miss her, her texts, her attention, her efforts, the way she apologized after every fight even if it was not her mistake because for her there was no point in winning an argument over you. You will miss how she cared, her love because it’s rare what she had offered you.

There are a lot of people like you and the day you’ll meet another you, you’ll want her the same way she did.

One day you’ll hear songs that will make you miss her and you will change it as fast as possible. You’ll regret everything and you’d wish you could apologize. And she’ll not be there looking at her phone screen for hours and hours, waiting for your one text to fix everything.

I promise, you’ll realize it but that will be too late because till then she’d have unloved you with every fibre of her being. She’ll walk past you not even noticing your presence. Today she realises her worth, she knows she shouldn’t have  to cry herself to sleep. She doesn’t deserve it.

Now she’ll not settle for mediocre love, for one-night stands or friends with benefits. No not again. She’s worth so much more. She wants someone to love her the way she loved you. She wants to be the reason for someone to want to be a better person, the best that they can ever be.

Now she knows you can never be that someone. So losing you is not actually a loss for her, she had lost someone who shouldn’t be there in the first place but you have lost someone who did everything to keep you in that place.

She wanted that Darkness

“You can’t let someone see what’s in your heart.”

Sometimes, you don’t. Because, you don’t want to, or you need to. But then, you keep it inside you. And you keep pushing it inside, the burden, and you keep pushing it deeper inside the pit of your heart, until one day, you breakdown. You just keep pushing it, deeper and deeper. Because people push you away. Or do. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is how you look beyond it.

“I want this darkness.”

Ever had that feeling where you want to run, sulk in darkness once you’ve grown attached to someone, hoping they’ll come for you, guide you back into their light? But here is the thing: how will they guide you back to their light if you want to keep yourself in darkness. Wanting something is a choice. Needing something is a necessity. Understand the difference.

“I have to clear my mess. I am insecure and have decided myself into believing I am happy. I don’t let this side shine. I am two different person, to be honest. 

“I am happy and an optimistic around my family and friends. But when I am alone, I let my other side take the seat. And I can’t help it… can’t help it knowing someone out there is in love with me, and I can’t reciprocate the love.

“I want to. I really do, but this… pain… it is… it is… different. I am a discomfort to myself. And some day, I will just be forgotten. ”

We are in love ; and under the sapphire sky we meet our nightmares. But that’s fine. And it is fine to have two different characteristics. We are like a coin, having two sides. Which side is true to you? Contemplate on that. 

Here I am, telling you it’s fine and okay, but I know the other side of the coin, too. But I like my choices. And I choose this side of coin, where I believe things are going to be fine. Because they will. Time may be the strongest gift of nature. But there is something far stronger. You know what? Change. It can mould Time. So, let Time play its dirty tricks on you. Because sooner or later, Change will come, and Time will bend in your favour.

“You’ll break yourself if you try fixing everyone else.” 

But wouldn’t that be worth it? One broken soul for ten happy souls.

Why I Can Only Blame Myself For What Happened Between Us

Originally Posted on


By Kristen Buccigrossi


There are days when I look back and can do nothing but hate you. I think about all the times you made me feel jaded, all the times that you made me feel neglected, all the times you made me feel inadequate. I remember all the tears that were shed and all the moments wasted fighting for your attention. I think back to all the moment that I felt like a hollow soul and I question how I let it get this far. But then I look closer at the pain and I realize, I am the only one to blame.


I should have been more observant. You weren’t interested in what I had to say and you made it clear, but I still stood there screaming at the top of my lungs. You were clear that you didn’t want to be a part of my everyday life, yet I kept inserting myself in yours, trying to make you see how good it could be. You didn’t have to say you didn’t want me around, your actions said it all. I just had my eyes shut too tight to see it.


I shouldn’t have been so naive. You weren’t interested in making my life a romantic comedy, yet I still dreamt it up in my mind that way. You weren’t interested in anything more than a fling, but in the movies, they always change their mind, you will too. You never did anything to make me think that this was going to turn out the way I was hoping that it would. My optimism took over and blinded me to the truth.


I shouldn’t have been such a pushover. You stuck to your rules and I buckled on mine. You told me you weren’t ready for a relationship and I changed my needs. You always managed to get your way and I always managed to let you have it. I always thought that making you happy would make you see things differently. I was wrong every damn time.


I shouldn’t have been so available. You were always making plans last minute and I was always one to come running. You had an hour, I would be there in a minute. I would change my plans, I would go out of my way, I would stop the world if it meant that I got to spend just a moment with you. You were selective with your communication with me and I always picked up for you no matter what.


I shouldn’t have let myself fall alone. You never really told me how you felt and yet I was telling you my feelings every chance I could. You drunkenly told me you liked me once and I was ready to propose. You never made an effort to even properly take me out on a date and yet I was there falling for a stranger I knew nothing about. You let me fall on my own and I was the one who had to catch myself on my own.


When I look back, I can’t hate you. I am frustrated by the way you treated me. I am irritated that I let you manipulate me in such a condescending way. I am confused as to what you ever really wanted from this in the long run. But more importantly, I am disappointed in myself, because I could have prevented this from happening all along.


About The Author


At the end of the day, I just want to believe that I know I am not fine, but one day, it will get better. There will be this ball of happiness, rolling down towards me, and I will hold it. I will hold onto it but not forever—because they seem short—and I want to tell myself, some nights are just hauntingly beautiful. 


A year, or decade from now, if our roads intersect, I don’t want you to walk alone, but with me. And tell me about the part of journey I missed. Because I want to tell you, too. I want you to look at me not with despair, or with a sad smile, but with the same old smile you used to have when you were around me. Because, every time I look at you, I start believing in beautiful things. That this world is filled with beauty and butterflies and sandstorms and dead flowers and people like you, happy; and people like me, lost. 

One Day

At the end of the day, I just want to believe that I know I am not fine, but one day, it will get better. There will be this ball of happiness, rolling down towards me, and I will hold it. I will hold onto it but not forever—because they seem short—and I want to tell myself, some nights are just hauntingly beautiful. 


A year, or decade from now, if our roads intersect, I don’t want you to walk alone, but with me. And tell me about the part of journey I missed. Because I want to tell you, too. I want you to look at me not with despair, or with a sad smile, but with the same old smile you used to have when you were around me. Because, every time I look at you, I start believing in beautiful things. That this world is filled with beauty and butterflies and sandstorms and dead flowers and people like you, happy; and people like me, lost. 

Devastated is beautiful.

When was the last time you felt devastated?

Last night? Today at the breakfast table? Or maybe during the last ride home? Did you feel like a huge mess? Did you want to kill yourself? Did you want to suffocate your senses down?

I guess it happens to everyone. It happens to me, and I know it happens to you too. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed about it. We all die a little every day. We all kill a little every day. Dying is an indispensable part of life, I’ve learned.

Go for it. So what if you look a little ugly? Buy that dress that shows off your collarbones. So what if you get dark circles? Go finish that half read novel. So what if you’re broke? Go eat that burger with extra cheese. So what if you have a bad voice? Go sing that song aloud. Because what if the part of you that’s living today dies tomorrow?

Today was a bad day. But tomorrow will be better. You may ask me how I’m so sure about it. That’s because I like to believe that whatever happens, does for a reason. And if things are meant to be, they will be. Go cry your heart out, no one’s judging you. Go send that reckless text, no one’s stopping you. Go walk that extra mile, for you’re only what you think yourself to be.

So my dear, when was the last time you felt devastated? Today? Yesterday? During that last conversation? Doesn’t matter. You’re going to feel devastated yet again. You’re going to die yet again. You’re going to kill yet again. But never kill the parts of you that you can’t live without.

Devastated is beautiful. 

How to Love a Woman who has been to Hell & Back.

Many have tried. Most have failed.


The weak need not attempt, for it will take more strength than you even know you possess; more patience, more resilience, more tenacity, more resolve. It requires a relentless love, one that is determined and not easily defeated.

For the woman who has been to hell and back will push you away. She will test you in her desire to know what you are made of, whether you have what it takes to weather her storm. Because she is unpredictable—at times a hurricane, a force of nature that rides on the fury of her suffering; other times a gentle rain, calm, still and quiet.

When she is the gentle rain that falls in time to her silent tears, love her.


When she is the thunder and lightning and ferocious winds that wreak havoc, love her harder.


She is a contradiction, a pendulum that will forever swing between fear of suffocation and fear of abandonment, and even she will not know how to find the balance between the two. Because today, although she will never tell you, she will feel insecure. She will want you to stay close, to tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her on her forehead and hold her in the strength of your arms. But tomorrow she will crave her independence, her space, her solitude.


For while you have slept, she has been awake, unable to slow her thoughts, watching clocks and chasing time, trying to make the broken pieces fit, to make sense of it all—of where and how she fits. She fights her demons and slays her dragons, afraid if she goes to sleep they will gain the upper hand, afraid if she goes to sleep she will no longer be in control. Tomorrow she will be tired, and your presence will smother her. She will need only herself.


When she reaches out to you, love her.


When she pushes you away, lover her harder.


New situations and places and people and experiences will make her anxious. She will be fiercely independent and long to overcome her fears, all the while as terrified as a small child alone in the big world. Sometimes she will need to be courageous, to prove to herself she has what it takes. Other times she will need you to take her hand and hold it firmly in yours. Sometimes she may not know what she needs, and you will need to read her like a book with worn pages and a tattered spine and be what she needs when she does not know herself.


When she is brave and steps into the world on her own, love her.


When she is scared, but refuses to take your hand, love her harder.


She will live in fear of not being enough and always being too much—an endless battle to find the middle ground. Ashamed if the scale falls one way or the other, ashamed to be herself for no one has ever loved her both when she is small and also when she is tremendous.


When she feels too much, love her.


When she feels not enough, love her harder.


Sometimes she won’t hurt and the light will shine from her eyes and her laughter will be a rare and precious melody. But sometimes she will hurt so much from the trauma still in her body; she will ache, she will feel pain and anguish. The light will grow dim and the music will fade.


When she is the light, love her.


When she is the darkness, love her harder.


She will always love you with caution, with one foot out the door. For she does not understand a love with no conditions, one that is powerful enough to withstand hard times. She cannot allow herself to fully trust in your love, and she will keep parts of her heart hidden—the parts that have been hurt the most, the parts she can’t risk being hurt again when she has worked so hard to stitch them together.


She will always watch, wait and expect you to leave first. And when you don’t, she has a truth written upon her heart that says you will—it’s only a matter of time, for everyone who loves her leaves her. And so she will seek to sabotage the relationship; she will seek to destroy it, she will seek to leave first, she will seek to hurt you before you can hurt her. This is how she stays in control, this is how she survives, how she will ensure she will not get hurt again.


When she wants to love you, love her.


When she wants to hurt you, love her harder.


Being out of control terrifies her. Don’t ever make her feel powerless, trapped or without her freedom. She needs to dance barefoot under enormous blue skies, to feel sand between her toes, to run with wolves as the wind weaves magic through her hair, for here is where her healing is found. Never clip her wings, for if she has the freedom to fly, she will always come back to you.


Love her when it’s easy, and love her harder when it’s not.


Love her in a way that will defy all she has ever known love to be.


Love her because you understand with every fiber of your soul the gift of her love, what it has cost her to offer you her fragile heart.


She does not need you. She has chosen you.


Because you have what it takes to survive the storm.


Because even when she doesn’t know how to love, you know how to love harder.
(With permission)

Author: Kathy Parker

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