My Heart Hurts

Oops

Stumbled upon this beautiful park while having dinner in Foster City last week | Moments like these make me smile

As of lately, I’ve locked away some of my thoughts. I’ve refrained from writing because I didn’t think I could take on the full weight of articulating my words. And honestly, I feel like my profile is a bit too public; there are too many ways to miscontrue my words, and too little ways for me to guard myself.

In the spirit of transparency and keeping this medium real, here are some thoughts in regards to heartache:

  1. My brother leaving the faith continues to break my heart. It’s hard not to take it personally; if only I wasn’t so self-centered; if only I reached out more; if only I was just better. If only fucking only.
  2. Seeing my parents work so hard saddens me. I just want them to rest. I understand that they make these sacrifices out of love, but I wish these sacrifices had limits. It guilts me, it kills me, and in a twisted way, it infuriates me.
  3. I’m definitely a different person than the one writing a month or two ago. There’s been a lot of fulfilling (read: happy and proud) happenings since then — new friendships, achievements, rekindlings, and breakthroughs. But there’s also been change that I’m not proud of. The kindness and gentleness in me is increasingly being replaced by apathy and secular obsessions.

Some songs I’m currently listening to

Even When It Hurts (Feat. Hillsong United) — Mr. Jham: https://open.spotify.com/track/4r0q8fMOqR3Y3pUptDTsnT
Goodnight — Shoffy: https://open.spotify.com/track/2bWoRWc3AD9Dv2IZTa6MaN
Let Me Touch Your Fire — A R I Z O N A: https://open.spotify.com/track/0bRXBPQ4uL0N3aGV8SVIk7
65 Roses — Martin Luke Brown: https://open.spotify.com/track/6v8ofJ3yUsw4gKKmd2mPsn
Heaven — Ailee [lmfao]: https://open.spotify.com/track/7nhdz5V0wEnvskcmZodhJk
Juvenile — The Blaze: https://open.spotify.com/track/5YzaostcCu9Sgp5T7bFuX3
Leaving Tokyo — Fakear, Rae Morris: https://open.spotify.com/track/2Dbj4ghZT6UC10Ipjgffqk
One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.