Losing Love: Part 1

An awkward middle child born into a simple family in a quaint city. She always felt so small, her existence seemed meaningless and insignificant. She tho grew up thinking that she was either a shadow or invisible. You see her wearing baggy clothes loose clothes because she thought that her arms and legs were ugly and oversized. When she looked in the mirror, she never saw beauty only discontent with the face she was born with. Too scared of people, she could not even bring myself to talk to the waitress asking for my order at fast-food restaurants. Her younger sister spoke on her behalf. Each time someone tries to talk to her, she scampers away in fear. There were rare occasions when she really talked about things and that was when she had the company of her few close friends or when asked by a teacher in class. As a child, she found it better to talk to her dogs about life issues than to her parents or sisters because she knew dogs are loving, loyal and non judgemental.

By the sea
Silence was her escape.

Being a child from a low-income family who went to a private school, she was bullied all throughout her younger years by affluent classmates. After being publicly humiliated during one school activity, she built walls to keep her far from people, to avoid getting affected by words and putting her faith on seemingly trustworthy friends. She never took compliments well. Every time she received one, she would doubt and think they are either liars or just nice. In her head, she had no one. A lone wolf on a prowl for contentment and peace. She grew up thinking that it is weakness to show her feelings and to depend on someone. After seeing her mother getting beaten up regularly by a father who could never control his alcohol intake, the fear of vulnerability crept in her veins like poison that she feared it more than she feared death. She fell into a routine of school, house and church, a way of grasping normalcy. An achiever at surface level yet her teachers knew she had to learn to speak up. You will never see her smile in photos, she started mastering the art of hiding what was inside her. For her less emotions, less connections and less attachments meant safety. She sought refuge in written words and melancholic melodies. Each night she would spend countless of hours writing and listening to songs of disappointments and losses. The darkness inside grew more each day after the death of a loved one. Barely a teenager and yet she has gone through a lot. She would trod on through life like a beat up warrior who is numb and tired.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. This is beautiful but also very sad. I hope the next parts of this loss story brings good news and happy times. 🙂 You are very good at writing!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! I sometimes think my choice of words and the sentence construction is not that good enough but I just write it out and try not to overthink too much.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I have found that when I am writing that the best thing I can do is to get my thoughts written down or typed then I can go over and correct mistakes and try to catch grammar mistakes. The important thing is to write.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s