Apologia.

If you are reading this, I doubt in my condition. Be it dead or in an asylum, unless I have the strength to pull through. Will ponder said decision further.

Bonds. Ties. Everything.
All so very important. Apparently. I've never felt too attached to anything living as of late. A few jerks of emotion, that's it.

Something about you saying goodbye, something about the thought of never having you at my side, that's just unbearable.

Rain. Tapping. Pouring. Relentlessly, it comes. Wonder how it feels like, to just go on ahead with something. Around us, so many live with one purpose.

Listen, I will cut the poetic crap now.
You, you really are my everything. If it sounded like I lost faith in you, I'm sorry. But what are we fighting over?

There's no prize. Nothing.

It's pointless telling you over and over again, i'm sorry. I will redeem myself, in any means necessary. I have no excuse for myself.

but I love you. I don't like it when I hurt you. It drives me into such furiosity I begin looking at knives and windowsills.

You made me feel like I existed, Na. When everyone else ignored me, you treated me like a person. You gave me pet nicknames that usually only existed in intimate relationships. You kept me in place when i'd felt like I'd lost myself.
Being with you is like bliss. It's greater than bliss. It stopped me from cutting the line like I should have so long ago.

After so long, I truly feel sadness.
How the violins cry,
and the lack of the stars in the sky.

I truly feel what it's like,
the world you completed, in shreds,
my life you gave meaning, a void.

When the depths alight with the flood of sorrow,
nothing. There is no tomorrow.
And for the first time in years, I start to tear,
Why? why won't you come back here?


From the journal of W. Amirul Adlan: Given up.