There are feelings inside her that don’t exist in me. She’s a very logical person, and I’m a very playful person. At first, I felt like we were alike but turns out we’re complete opposites—she thinks through things while I feel through things.
She says that I’m too young and idealistic to love her and perhaps that’s true. I am a child when it comes to love. I feel things like we’re soul mates or we both like watching the stars together and fuck that explains a lot why we’re so drawn to each other because of destiny and all that stuff.
She once asked me what love meant to me, and I said that love is the only thing that makes life less meaningless. And I held her hand and kissed it and then looked at her in the eye. “This is love,” I said quietly. And I held her face and kissed her on the forehead and then looked at her in the eye once more. “This is love,” I said again quietly.
“Love is just an illusion,” she whispered in my ear, and we made love just with our lips, and it felt like a dream for the first time that we were together. It all felt like a dream to me, but I knew that she was the one that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I just can’t explain why I had to let her go when she was the only girl who made me feel something so absolute.
“Love is just an illusion,” the very last words that she said to me when I walked out of her not so fucked up life. The very last words that brought me to an understanding that maybe love is nothing more than chemicals released in the brain that never does last forever like any kind of drug. But the thing about love is that it fucks you up eventually, and you want more of it. In good morning texts, during penetration, flowers and wandering the world together and forever.
Love is just an illusion, but it does last if you really do believe in it.
One day nothing will make sense, and you will be okay.
There will be art that you haven’t expressed to the world. And there will be someone that you loved who’s now living their happily ever after with someone else because somewhere down the line you disappointed that person and all you could do now is to hope that they’re happy and that they find everything that they’re looking for.
There will be loneliness in your heart and some madness in your mind. And there will be places you wish you’ve been to when you still had your youth, but you were so busy saving up for some stuff that you thought would fill your void. And all you’re left now are some things that don’t carry memories—only sorrow for caring too much about what other people thought of you back then.
There will be a lot of things you’ve started but never dared to finish for the fear of failure and you’ll be shaking your head on why you had to worry so much like you had something to lose. And there will be lots of too late wishes like you could’ve been happier if you took more risks, if you were just more grateful with what you had back then, if you were just more playful with your gifts—you could’ve been living your dream instead of supporting someone else’s dream.
If you’re reading this and you’re still young, you’ve got to fight for your existence. There will come a time when your life will flashback right before your very eyes. And I hope that you make good and meaningful decisions because at the end of the day it all boils down to your decisions for they are the little things that make you who you are and you are beautiful. Don’t let the concept of forever and having just one more chance stop you from becoming the person you want to be. Because there’s no forever and you only have one chance to play it all out until it becomes memory.
I am a strong believer that fate exists. That everything happens for a reason. That the people we have in our lives are in our lives without accident. There is always meaning. Explainable or unexplainable. There is no such thing as luck. We are all here for a purpose. All we have to do is believe.
—Confessions of a Wallflower, page 257
Just a word of advice on days you get depressed: Be gentle with yourself. Read your favorite novel or watch your favorite movie. Plan a trip to the beach. Call a friend and be vulnerable and set up a meet. Listen to your favorite song and maybe cry for a bit. Write all of your depressive feelings on a journal or a piece of paper. Someday you’ll look back at all of this and feel victorious that you kept yourself going. That you kept yourself occupied with things while not abstaining from your true feelings. That you kept believing that things will get better and they did.
It takes time to work on not being alone. You have to call a friend. You have to take a shower and eat breakfast with your mom. You have to put in the effort to feel loved and be loved by the people around you. Passiveness leads to loneliness. Be active and spread your sadness to the people you trust your feelings with. Be understood. And be okay.
Solitude isn’t always pretty.
Sometimes it’s just lying in bed and staring at the ceiling listening to the same song over and over again as it slowly loses its meaning. Sometimes it’s how people go mad because they couldn’t tame the darkness that was growing within them over time. Some days it’s a girl waking up without her soul. Some nights it’s a boy falling asleep with his spirit crushed. Sometimes it’s someone wanting to lose themselves to a person, but instead, they push that person away.
Solitude only becomes a prison when you do not love yourself. And even if you do love yourself it’s still a very dangerous thing, and the very benefits of it are the stars shining in its purest darkness.
Solitude isn’t always pretty but also are the truths that we find within ourselves when we learn to find solace in it.
She began to ask every woman she knew: how does one move on?
The first was her best friend.
“How does one move on?” she asked.
What you need to ask yourself is what your motives are in chronically dwelling on this person? Find the specific details on why you loved this person, and it’s okay to find yourself still loving this person, but you have to see that these qualities do exist with a person who’s waiting for you, who’s even willing to give you more.
The second was her older sister.
“How does one move on?” she asked.
Let go of the fantasy. Loss is a good place to love yourself more and work on forgiving yourself more. Nothing is permanent in this universe we live in. Some things change. Sometimes even the people we thought loved us deeply.
The third and last one was her mother.
“How does one move on?” she asked.
It’s been a year, baby. Losing someone is like having your coffee black and realizing from the first sip that it’s not for you. Baby, he’s not the one for you. You need a man who carries water in his eyes. You need a man whose soft, a man who’ll write poetry on the scars of your wrist. Baby, don’t think that the time you spent with that person was lost for it has prepared you for this very moment, our conversation here. It has prepared you for the strong woman you’re becoming. It doesn’t really matter the way you lose the person. Whether he moved to another country. Whether he passed away. Whether he’s now married to someone else. What really matters is that you let yourself feel and release all your regrets out to the universe to open up new possibilities when you finally, finally move on.
On that night before she went to sleep she wrote one line in her journal:
“Heartache may lead to the suicide of the mind but never of the soul.”