Dont tell me how heroic you are 

Tell me of the sacrifices you made 

Dont boast of your strengths to me 

Tell me, instead, of the things you let go 

Tell me about the pain, the sting 

Of all that you hold dear, lost. 

16th May, 2016. 

Its been six years today. 

Six years of endless mourning. 

Sometimes, I think maybe I give too much importance to myself by writing here about everything wrong in my life. I have been told I am too much involved in myself. Maybe they are right. But they are not in my shoes. They dont have to live with the gross reality of a missing part of life. Its easy to criticise and comment. Its easy to chastise. Its not easy to live with your reality and smile through the day like you dont care. 

We will always disappoint people. We will always make them feel we are self centred. But then everyone is. Even the people who point and taunt. 

I am not arrogant of my sorrows. Who would be? 

If I desire solitude, no one has the right to judge me. Its my freedom to choose society or tell them to fuck off. I will not apologise for the language. Its that time of the year when I feel the unfairness of fate in full measure. 

I pledged that I will live my life for me as no matter what no one is happy with your conduct anyway. No one deserves to be at your side. 

People are bullies who try to blackmail you, try to make you submit to their will. And you dont realise it. It saps you of your own choices. 

I have derailed from my original intent of writing this post. But, its been on my mind for quite a while and I needed to let it out. Its that time of the year.