A sketchbook is not just about sketch. It’s about a human’s mind and soul. About stress and desire.
My sketchbook is full again. Quite fast. Depression does have an effect, huh?
Maybe I would enjoy a new story, a new restart, somehow, like an alternative universe to my twisted world, a reality built on lies
In a universe where things have not gotten this bad…where everything changes
But if I am unchanged, then the end still doesn’t change.
Now that I think about it throughly, there is no way I will have a trauma over a mere lover. There can only be two cases: either that memory was not my trauma, or that was only a part of it. Since I know I forced myself to forget it, the case falls to the later. There should be something more that I forgot.
I didn’t had much friend when I was a secondary student. I had only one, to be exact. One girl. We were friends.
Till one day
“I only feel pity for you”
What can I say? Best friend ever, 10/10, must have.
But still, even with these memories, I couldn’t have trauma, anxiety, or depression over any of these. There is still something wrong.
Our relationship is something that technically doesn’t exist. There is no name of it, nor any hint directly supports the idea such a relationship exists. Hence, there’s no solid evidence that one day, you will not left me behind.
Till now, you have never shattered my hope. That can still be that you simply want to keep your promises, simple promises with no romantic intention. I don’t want my hope turn to be false. As they usually did.
As you can clearly see, the fear of being left by such a nice person like you is beyond stupidity. You can say, this had evolved into some kind of anxiety. So what can be the reason behind this?
At first, I thought this is just who I am. But as time goes by, I realize, something not right. I have forgotten something. I’m not afraid of being left just because “I’m afraid”. There was a memory. A trauma? I have forgotten something that affected my life, so that can only means I forced myself to forget it. Thus, this should be as awful as a trauma.
So that memory was
I was happy. I have someone next to me, who (unintentionally) lied: “I love you because of who you are”.
And few days later, when I was still really happy
He left. More like, he left me.
He said he didn’t think through. And I looked at his eyes. Full of determination. To leave me. And I realized, there was nothing I can do. The relationship was never solid. Think could fall off at anytime, for no reason, and there is nothing you can do.
I felt hopeless. Pathetic. Naive. Depressed. Shocked. Paralyzed. Foolish.
Why am I writing this down?
Because soon, I will forget. I want some part of me left. That’s why.
I have friends that are always by my side just so they can make me happy. And they don’t care about who I am, they love me either way.
I have good music and games to chill with.
My life is of a goddess, with my relatives doing everything for me, I can go wherever I want, do whatever I want, get whatever I want, and still get delicious foods and drinks whenever I get home. All I need to do is studying and playing around.
I get lots and lots of fun from all of that. But
It’s still not enough.
I feel empty.
Things are much easier for us to love
When they’re dead