Wednesday, October 30, 2019


The first time Steph told me she loved me, I told her that she didn't know what she was saying. It was too soon to say things like that, I thought, and I was afraid that she didn't realize the full extent of what she said, or of the commitment that this implied. I told her that maybe she made a mistake, and that she didn't really mean it. I gave her an opening to take back her words.

The next day, I told her I loved her too. I truly loved her then, and whether or not she felt the same wasn't the problem. It was the truth for me and I had to say it. I thought she loved me, but more than that, I realized that my feelings were a small price to pay for the love that I thought I had.

This is what I learned from my experience: we sometimes sacrifice our feelings (particularly happiness) for the possibility of someone liking us back. But why do we put such importance on being in a relationship? Perhaps it's the fear of being alone that drives us into relationships that we probably shouldn't be in. I can say for a fact that I stayed in a relationship with Steph for a lot longer than I should have, all because I was too afraid to be alone.
It's often said that to love someone you have to be able to sacrifice yourself, or at least parts of yourself into the relationship. But I don't agree with this view. Love should elevate the people in the relationship, make them into something better than who they were before. Though these people may add up to be a couple, they are whole in themselves. I feel as if a lot of times, shows and movies romanticize at least one broken person looking for someone to waltz into their lives to fix them. And oftentimes we rush into relationships because it feels like time is running out for us to be worthy of love. These concepts, of running out of time or waiting for someone to "fix" who we are, those only help in making rash decisions and ultimately bad choices in relationships
But at the end of the day, I feel as if a certain amount of faith is necessary for any relationship to work. Just as many people have faith in the religion they believe in, people in relationships ought to have faith that the person they are with cares for them in the same way. Just because the media tends to over-romanticize what it means to be in a relationship doesn't mean that I have given up on finding "the one".

Wednesday, October 16, 2019

Love: A Tragedy

It was a Wednesday afternoon when she first messaged me, through the Tumblr messaging app. She wasn't exactly my type, not someone I really found attractive. My friend Natalie pointed out that I should take a chance with her. I typed out a quick reply and left it at that. When I got out of my class, I had already forgotten about this interaction, and was ready to move on with my day. Little did I know, she had already written a reply back, so we kept talking. Eventually, I gave her my number, because why not. She also seemed like a decent person, which was hard to come by.

We ended up talking all day. Her name was KB. We texted about where we came from, the things we liked to do, where we wanted our futures to go. She seemed like a lot of fun, definitely someone I could see myself with. She lived in New York, making her 3 hours ahead of me. Eventually, it got late. She asked if she could talk to me tomorrow. I smiled at the thought of us talking all day tomorrow.
We had been talking for about two or three weeks, and I thought that there could be something serious between us. There was joyful routine, both of us were happy (at least that was what I thought). She told me she thought I was her type, I told her she didn't know what she was saying, but I texted all my friends anyway. I  was happy, mainly because I felt I was still lovable, especially after the rough breakup between me and my ex. I believed my friends when they said they were happy for me.
Pretty soon, I started noticing small things that would make me uncomfortable. KB was polite for the most part, but she would make fun of me for my interests, under the guise of "teasing". She would say things that would bother me, and whenever I called her out on it, she would always find a way to twist the situation such that it would make me seem like I was overreacting. But always, there were the excuses. It would be okay for her to do something, but not okay for me to do the same exact thing. We fought constantly, I was living in a state of constant tension, not knowing when the next fight would come.
It was a Thursday morning when I got the text that I was expecting for a while now. She said she wanted to "stay friends". We had lasted for about two months.
It was a routine: dinner with a few friends as a form of breakup therapy. They told me they never liked the looks of her, she had the look of a self pitying attention drain. They insisted it would be better for me to just walk away. I took another bite of sushi and agreed. I desperately wanted to believe them.
I kept tabs on her Tumblr for a while. A few months later, we reconnected again. She had met someone new. I didn't know how to feel, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter. The other girl didn't feel the same way about her. We talked for a couple months more, and it became apparent to me that she hadn't changed at all. She was still the same condescending, self-righteous person I had thought she was all those months ago. After a few days of not talking, she sends me a message with just a "Hi". When I didn't respond in about a day, it became apparent that she had blocked me on social media and blocked my number.
How childish, I thought. But then again, how predictable. At this point in my life, I simply just didn't care.
About three weeks later (as of Oct. 14, 2016), it feels like nothing has changed in my life. I guess that's how you know you've moved on from someone: when talking to them feels more like a hassle than anything else. My friend asks me if I had bothered to check up on her since, and my response ran along the lines of, why should I, when things are going great for me?
A few days ago, a friend asked me how to get over a girl that he had feelings for. My solution for him was simple: find the right someone, and things will figure themselves out. I had the good fortune of having met someone who had a stellar personality, someone who helped erase all trace of KB from my memory. It might seem impossible, but good girls are hard to find.
My friend Natalie asked me how I felt about this situation. I told her, people who break up end up in competition with each other, even if they won't admit it. In order to win, you need to live a better life. I'm pretty sure I've won.

Wednesday, October 2, 2019

Blogging as Art

Writing has been really frustrating to me lately. Writing ideas (at least for the past few months) have been difficult to come by, and putting a writing idea into words just seemed to hard. But a few weeks ago I wanted to get back into creative writing again, so I just stopped making excuses and just started writing. I needed to fight the feeling to just lay down and not put any effort into writing anymore, which gets worse the longer I stay lying down, which makes the act of writing even harder than before. But pretty soon I realized that sometimes I just need to get up and just write, regardless of the quality; otherwise, I might as well pack my bags and stop blogging altogether.

Which I have no intention of doing. I've been blogging for years, and I love this blog. I've just been too wrapped up in everything else that's been going on. 
The problem with blogging is that usually it's a one person project, and if this one person is not capable of keeping up with a certain number and frequency in terms of a posting schedule, then the blog just dies a pretty natural death. Not death in the sense of the person stops writing, that's really up to the writer themselves, but more so in terms of the lack of readers that would still be interested in your work after a long absence. And for people who say that they don't care about the traffic or having a set number of readers come back on a regular basis, they just want to put their work on paper. I call BS on that: everyone wants readers. Maybe your goal isn't to have a lot of readers, maybe you just want your friends, maybe just one or two strangers, but you still want people to read what you have to say. Otherwise, posting your writing online would be pointless. Why not write your work in a notebook? Having a blog or an online site is putting your work on a public space, which means that when you post, you aim to share your work to the public (even if the "public" means a few friends). It's similar to the philosophical question about trees and forests: if your blog doesn't have readers, or as some people say "having readers isn't my goal", what is the point of having a blog in the first place?
Because a blog is something that requires readers, then maybe some standards are supposed to be set. What is the point of doing something if you're only going to put in half the effort? You might as well give everything you have. This applies to blogging as it does for anything else.
This brings me to the point of this post: that blogging could be elevated to something of an art form, in the same way that poetry, or fiction, or novels are considered art work. Many people view having a blog as a hobby, which in itself isn't really a bad thing, but I think many bloggers tend to limit their views by thinking that having a blog is just a platform to create something else, something "greater", rather than having the blog as the end result. I understand that attitude, and one of the main reasons why I blog is to practice writing so that I eventually get better. But that doesn't mean that blogging instantly becomes something "less than" a book, or a poem. Some of the best blogs that I have come across have connected to me on a personal level, whether it be emotionally or  psychologically, and honestly, who is to say that this connection is less valid only because the connect was made in a blog? When the goal of your work is to connect with people you've never met on a humanlevel, where does the art begin and the hobby stop?
It's interesting to see how similar the end goal of bloggers and artists are. Those aims are, in essence, based on the love for what they do.
So this is what I'm trying to say. My suggestion is that bloggers stop feeling that blogging is anything less than any of the accepted art forms that are established. At the end of the day, we are all artists. We create content for others just like any other art form. In my opinion, blogging can be the future of what art can look like.