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

Post Valentine Poem For Gab


I still remember
the time when we 
had our little infinity

We were both
hospitalized due to
our suicide attempt
and I now believe that
it’s possible for people
to be strong in the most
broken places.

I still remember
the time when we
were having snacks
and we were only allowed
one cookie but you gave me
yours and I was an eater but
it didn’t really dawn on me that 
you liked me.

One night after
the rosary you told me
that you had feelings for me
and I was surprised that such
a beautiful girl like you would
fall for a weird boy like me but
I liked you back, and I was happy.

The doctors were
concerned that our feelings
for each other may somehow
interrupt our healing and recovery
so the nurses would separate us every
time they saw us together talking.

I wrote you love letters
at that place and you wrote 
a poem about Peter Pan I think
and how that was our first thing
to talk about since you knew that
I was a writer, and you wanted me
to see if it’s any good and I don’t know
if it was any good because all I could think 
about is how much I’m like Peter Pan because 
I never grow up and give up my magic.

You were the first to leave
that place after your few weeks of stay
and I had to stay a week longer because
they wanted to make sure that I was really
getting better and I did get better eventually
for I realized that some people really do have
it worse than me and of course I found you there
and love heals mental wounds.

We dated, and you gave me
my first kiss and you gave me
my second kiss and I tried to give you
what was left of my broken soul and you
didn’t put my feelings like a flower in a jacket
and I took you for granted because I was relapsing
and I had to let you go to heal, and now I’m all alone
sometimes without my depression to numb me from
the memory of you.

And I madly miss you 
because you were my bad days
turned into good days and every night 
I think of what it would be like to live in
a world where I never let you go and sometimes
I dream of that world and wake up to a world filled
with grief and regret knowing that maybe I’ll love you
for the rest of my fucking life and how I am possibly
eternally fucked without you.

Just A Word of Advice


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


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.