I am not saying you do not have the right to say what you just said to me - but those words, did you think before uttering them? Did it go through your mind that perhaps I do have my fair share of concerns too? For this dysfunctional unit that you have created and claimed to keep it together.

Yeah, you created it.
You did not have to, you know?
What gives you the right to choose what you have chosen?

And I live for myself? Did you just assume that? Did you assume that I enjoy what I do, what I am doing right now? Did you think I chose what I want to do because I enjoy it, because I want to fulfill my dreams, because ultimately, I love myself and hence, I live for myself? Didn't you assume all that? And on what basis?

Why do you even assume that I want to live?

Don't I know the burden you are carrying - the burden you chose to carry - don't I care? You grouped me under 'those who doesn't care about what [you] do' for them but did you even think about what they - I - do and feel?

Did you think about it when you left?

In the end, does it make you feel good - you doing what you claimed you love to do but throwing your emotional burden on the ones who love you? Does it make you feel good? Does it make you feel good that you are helping people at the expense of hurting those who care about you most?

You said you are doing what you love - then why do you have so much dissatisfaction with our situation - the one you brought us into?

Have I ever blamed you for it? I have always been behind you. I have always been supportive. Even when she wasn't, I have always stood by you.

You said that you have been doing it for us for your whole life - really? And what have I been doing? Whatever I have done since I became aware of life, who do you think I have been doing it for? And you can say, I don't care?

Like daggers. Do you know that? Like knives. Because you and them - those are all I live for,,for my whole life and you could utter that accusation.

You wore and left me to stitch back the tears you caused but I am willing and have been doing so - and did you think I was happy doing it? Why build a unit if you are going to destroy it and left me to keep everything together?

I made no complaints because I know the burden on you and I tried my best not to add any more to that pile. But you wouldn't know, do you? Whatever I do, it is not enough for you. I guess you are too busy with the burdens in your own shoes to care about wearing others.

I am not enjoying what I do, I am not doing this because I enjoy it. I made choices based on what would be best for you - and them. My whole life - I have never stopped considering. My purpose. So I am not enjoying what I do, I am not doing it for myself, but I am content because I thought it would be worth it.. I really hate what I am doing, to be honest.

love myself too much huh? for that opportunity

Wow I am grateful but wow I am also tired.

And live for myself?

I don't even have the will to live.

Detached

I think I might be way past that attachment, to feel a loss. I think one should take it as it comes, even take it for granted for the things one can enjoy at present, but there is a difference in losing a golden necklace as compared to one with just a cheap string, isn't it?

It it about the value - you enjoy it either way - but some are hardly material.

Pyaw ya yin, toeto nl br mhr ma pyit yin, do akyaung a myo myo kyaunt bhr mha ma pyit naing yin - thu ko ma yone naing thay bu - thu ka ll ma kan chin bu - bhr mha kyi kyi mhr mhr ma hti kite bu lo pyaw dr pr. Pyaw ya yin, dr phyit ket bu dr bl, br htoo char lo ll? Pi tot, ya fri tway pyaw tha lo, yu pho kant mhan pay ml lo, a khu hti tot ma yint kyat thay det ayote kaung lay ta yout lo br bl. 

severed

In the end, it was you.
your conscious decision
like a doctor, like a gardener
I felt it when I first saw you too
and even when you said, 'hey listen,..
we're going to be best..' and I played it in my head over and over
now- it's almost funny how time, and you, made a mockery
of me and played ever so delicately with each string
and found a useless shell of a tool
threw it back to the sea with no company in its own misery
each call, each message, each meal, all the memories they sting
-smile at me and say I am a fool

X came last summer, unexpected and left this summer
as expected amidst my fears
X called and said 'hey, I haven't talked to you in so long'
we spoke and never did again
X used to tell me about everything that was a bummer
couldn't be bothered now; someone please tell me it is not worth my tears
X made me feel like I belong
now on a clear day, I am a drop of rain

//
Am I glad it was earlier so the pain would be greater? but wow does it hurt when you sat there as I stood facing the back of your white tee.
finis

And remember.

"Did you receive my email?"
I think that was what you asked that February, almost at the end.

I reckon I was a bit too happy then, that you made an effort - to respond, to ensure. I reckon I was happy with everything else too. Someone told me that I was too easily satisfied, too easily impressed, too easily happy, by everything you did, every word you said. That same someone told me to write to you. But I could not, could I? Who am I that you should pay attention? Who am I that you should bother to be civil? Who am I that you should care? I think that may be why I am too easily content. Content with hoping without hope. I learnt many things from many people. Many things about you, I admit. And I can't help hoping that one day, I would be able to do so from you, yourself. It is going to be almost 4 years, how time flies. And I am still stuck where you left. In that time loop. Replaying everything over and over. What is that to someone half the world across?

And it wasn't even anything much. ha.
Only a look, a tap, sometimes a smile, occasionally a lecture.
Twice a brush, a walk.

I wrote that in some years I will recall those memories and laugh at their insignificance.I hope it will be soon. I am far from laughter. A friend told me that intoxicated, she poured out her feelings, to the wrong person, but to the subject of the conversation. I think I may have cracked a smile at the simplicity of it all, and wished I was not too conscious a person. Perhaps, one day I will have the courage, and the confidence. Perhaps it will already have been too late by then. Perhaps it is already too late now. Perhaps, it was never even a realistic possibility. I would like to know, but how could I? So maybe then, keep being elusive a character, keep running.
Run.
Run, you, clever boy..

Petra

I feel you're too cruel, too unfeeling, too frightening. Am I too bold? Too pathetic? Certainly, I agree I must be pathetic. Bold, I wish I was. Or shall I say, bolder? Am I discerning enough to know I have been, like a speck of dust, in your immense universe of the stars, the planets, and the moons? But foolish enough to risk baring my soul to you? I only wish it could stop, feelings should stop existing in forms of you. And where is Reason? 

It beats.

And it aches, for the ones who fought to see the light, for the ones who fought, for the ones who struggled, for the ones who tried.

It aches, for the mother who gave life, only to witness it slipped away too soon, for the lover for whom the vows lost their place, for the children- precious children- I can't go on

2 miles apart, I barely know you. In fact, I didn't at all. I wish I still didn't. If this didn't happen, I wouldn't, would I? I wish I didn't. Not in the way I know now. It is too harsh, too unexpected, too like the sudden storm, I detest them all - the beasts who thought extinguishing a flame which another has lighted with affection was justifiable, and the monsters who shamelessly claim your glory for themselves. Utterly disgraceful, and conceited.

I can't read it.

The only spot you should sit is next to me, you wrote.

True, I talk of dreams,

Which are the children of an idle brain,
begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
which is as thin of substance as the air
and more inconstant than the wind, who woos
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And being angered, puffs away from thence, 

Turning his face to the dew-dropping south, 

- Romeo and Juliet (Act 1, Scene 4)