Rosy pink 

It’s cold. It’s dreary. My favorite kind of day. One thing is missing, however.

On a day like today, the day that requires the warmth of somebody, I miss you.

I know. I don’t show it. But that is my tactic. My coping mechanism. I need to stay distant. I can’t have you breaking my heart.

The past few months have been hard for us. Although you didn’t notice it, it was extremely hard for me. I was losing myself in this whirlwind romance.

I thought that I would keep seeing things in my rosy pink tinted glasses. It made me see everything in such a positive, loving way. But that was because I realized I loved you.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I still love you. But we’ve fought so much, I’ve compromised a whole heap of things. I’ve tried to change the way I am to better suit you.

It’s just different now. Ive realized I can’t do that. I have to be me. And you have to love me for me. And I love you enough to be able to admit that you don’t love me for me.

Not right now, anyways. It may happen. It may not. I guess it’s all in the power of the universe. Or fate. Or destiny.

I don’t want to break up. That’s the last thing I want to do. I want to help you. I want to nurture you. But only from a distant, until you realize your own potential, your own worth and how much I truly love and care for you.

Until then, I’m going to put my rosy pink tinted glasses away. And put on my mature, realistic glasses.



Why do you insist on hurting me?
Why do you always pretend you have no idea why I’m angry?
Do you think it feels good to be ignored?
Do you think its fun to tell someone you love them, and then fuck with their emotions?
Is this all a game to you?

How much more direct, do I have to be?
When will you see things from my perspective?
Why are you playing dumb?
Or do I mean that little to you?
Is everything you’ve told me, a lie?

You have drained me.
I have nothing left to give.
You have hurt me so much in the past few weeks.
And I am confused.
What you say and what you do, don’t match.
I don’t think it ever did.

I’ve tried so hard to be patient with you.
I’ve always been there for you, when you were down.
But where are you, when I need you?
You always put me last.
I am always your last priority.
Do you understand how that makes me feel?

I don’t think you do.
I thought you and I connected.
We did. At one stage.
We both had the same purple aura.
We both had the same visions of the future.
We both wanted the same fucking thing.
So, what happened?

by m


She’s never felt beautiful. She’s never felt sexy. She despised the way she looked. She was fat, too overweight, not pretty enough, didn’t have perfect teeth, didn’t have a thin face, was shit at putting make up on. All those things, a girl, supposedly had to be, she wasn’t.

She told herself, that it didn’t matter. She tried to be strong and ignore what was the norm in society. But then she looks at magazines and people on tv, and realises, that she is one really ugly person.

She was the funny one in her group of friends, because what other good trait did she have? She would make jokes about her weight, about how she looked, all while everyone laughed at her. With her. She was fine with that, she knew she was fat. She knew she wasn’t pretty. She would compliment her friends all the time, because they were, gorgeous. Not just on the outside, but just as much on the inside. They exuded confidence, they knew they were beautiful. Her friends always told her they were jealous of her confidence, if only they knew what went through her mind when she looked at them.

She was fat from the moment she was born. Yes, fat babies are cute, but fat girls are not. She’s tried countless diets, countless regimes. Some succeeded, some did not. It wasn’t the lack of her trying either. She would wake up early, to fit in her exercise, to make herself feel better, more confident. But that just made her feel like shit. She would watch what she ate, and be starving for most of the day, no matter how much vegetables she ate, she wasn’t satisfied. She didn’t wanna eat unhealthy, she actually liked healthy foods, but she hated how people were able to be thin, while eating shit. Everything she ate, made her fatter. Made her bigger. More ogre like.

She hated the way she looked. She didn’t wanna look like this anymore. She was all outta ideas. She hated when people complimented her and told her she was hot. She knew they were lying. She would rather someone hack away at her fat, while she was conscious then be lied to.

She struggled to find clothing that she liked. Or fit for that matter. She couldn’t find anything that didn’t show her stomach, her big bulging, Shrek like stomach. She couldn’t find anything that would hide her back fat. She hated wearing bras, she knew people stared at the fat overflowing from where her bra was in place. She couldn’t wear jeans, for the fear of them ripping. She couldn’t wear skirts or dresses, because she knew no one wanted to see her fat legs. She doesn’t like wearing sleeveless clothing either, because her arms, are so fat, they look like two huge fat, flat slugs.

You couldn’t see her collar bone. She didn’t like her fat neck, the fat lump at the back of her neck. She always wanted to try a short hair style, but knew everyone would be disgusted at the lump. She had big fat boobs, that, some men liked, but she felt were too big. She tries to hide them, but in turn, that makes her look fatter. She didn’t like her hands. They were short, chubby and squarish. It was disgusting. She made sure her nails were always painted in the hope that it would distract people from her behemoth hands. Her most hated part was her stomach. It was so horribly disgusting, that she could not look at herself in the mirror without a disgusted face. Even her vagina was fat. What the fuck is up with that? She had a huge fat ass, that never fit into anything. She had gross, fat thighs with cellulites everywhere. She had disgusting calves, which bulged out because of how fat they were. Even her toes were fat.

Her boyfriend tells her she’s pretty. Or hot. Or sexy. All of which are a lie. She doesn’t even know how she even lost her virginity to begin with. She is always in a constant battle of not caring and then caring so dramatically.

If she took her skin off, she would be a big, green ogre inside. Like Shrek.

by m


I remember the day quite vividly. As if it were yesterday. It was a cold day and my then boyfriend and I went to an internet cafe, as we had nothing else to do. The cafe was dark and grungy. Smelt like an old toilet mixed with old sweat and cheese balls. It didn’t help that the heater was on full blast and no windows were open, so it was super stuffy with all the cigarette smoke. It was not the most hygienic place, but my boyfriend liked it. He wanted to spend nine hours there, because that was the deal. Nine hours for six dollars. Cheap, yes, but not too sure if thats where you would take your girlfriend out to. Nevertheless, I was all out of fucks, as I was planning on breaking up with him the next day. I don’t know why I decided to go out with him that day. But I did. And thats where I met him.

Okay, not met physically, more like he suddenly appeared on my MSN chat list. Yes, I used to use that a lot. It was my form of texting back in the day, when no one had iPhones and I definitely was too young to even be able to afford one myself, even if it did exist. Although I did own a phone, that was capable of going online and taking photos.

So there I was, just being bored and looking for interesting things to do, online, when all of a sudden a chat window popped up. At first, I looked at the name, and I had no idea who it was. It was a mystery, but his display picture looked kinda cute, he had a scruffy kinda face, with facial hair and extremely short hair, he looked european. So I decided to get to know him. I know what you’re all thinking, that Im a bitch for chatting with another guy when my boyfriend was sitting right next to me, but I assure you, there was no flirting, well, not that day anyways.

At the time I was 18, and he, was 19. I had never gotten along so well with somebody as much as I did with him that day. I spoke to him for the full nine hours we were there. It wasn’t small talk, it was a surprisingly in-depth conversation. Over chat. Didn’t think that was possible. He also didn’t abbreviate words like some 19 year olds did. He actually spoke, no, typed, in full sentences and used proper grammar and punctuation. Boy, was that attractive.

So our nine hours had come to an end, and as I was saying goodbye to him, he asked me for my number. I hesitated. I don’t know why, but I did. I guess the goody goody within me was questioning whether this guy was real or not. I had to make up my mind quickly, as my boyfriend was telling me to hurry up and screaming at me from the counter. So without a second thought, I typed my number in and said my goodbye and logged out.

We walked out of the cafe, which was a refreshing burst of fresh air. I felt like my lungs had been clogged by all the dust and murky air of cigarettes from inside the cafe. I breathed in, what possible fresh air I could, considering we were in the city, and there is fumes and pollution everywhere, but so much nicer and fresher than inside that cafe. I stretched my cramp muscles out on the path. Sitting down for nine hours, is way too much sitting. My ass hurt.

My boyfriend put his arm around my shoulder, and started pulling me towards the car. It felt kind of uncomfortable knowing that I was going to end this tomorrow. So I gently pulled myself away from his hold, not obviously, just subtly so he wouldn’t catch on that something was wrong.

We got inside his car, a Mazda 3, that he adored. I normally would go in and make myself conformable, putting my feet up on the dashboard. He hated that. But he never told me off for it. Not this day though, I didn’t, even put my legs up like I used to. I kinda felt like I should be respectful one last time, while I sat in his car. I even let him choose what songs to listen to. They were horrible, but I kept that to myself. He asked me what was wrong, but I just said nothing, that I was tired, and wanted to go home. He was hungry so we went to the most romantic restaurant there is, Mcdonalds. I have nothing against Maccas, but I wanted to eat something proper, rather than fast food, but alas, we always end up there.

While my boyfriend was driving through the drive thru, I told him what I wanted and then checked my phone. There was a message from a number, I hadn’t seen before. I opened it up and it was the guy from my MSN list. I was actually really surprised that he messaged me straight away. It wasn’t one of those, here’s my number message, but a proper one. I couldn’t believe he wanted to still talk to me after we had spoken for nine hours straight. I responded simply with a, hi, in the hopes that he couldn’t read any emotions from it. He texted right back, but I decided not to open it and ignored my phone for the rest of the night.

My boyfriend and I ate our dinner, and then he drove me home. For some reason, I felt like I had to tell him then and there, so once we arrived at my place, I told him that we had to end this. He was really shocked as I had not given any indication of it previously. He was baffled and had nothing to say in return, so I looked at him and grabbed his hand. I told him he was really good to me, and I will also have a spot for him in my heart, because that was the true, and wished him well and then I left.

The next morning, I opened the text message from the guy, and he wanted to meet up. So I agreed. At first I hesitated, but something was telling me to just go for it. We decided to meet up for a movie, a movie I had no interest in, so I cannot even for the life of me, remember the movie title, but I didn’t really care as I was just intrigued to see him in reality and see where this would take us.

The date was set for the weekend which was three days after he had asked me. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to vomit. I didn’t know what to wear, or what to do with my unruly hair. I hadn’t dressed up nicely in such a long time, that I forgot how to. I eventually opted for something casual seeing as it was just the movies.

On the day of the date, I got dressed, wearing a skirt and my red favourite top. I was much thinner then so anything made my breasts look good, which I kinda liked. I, then brushed my hair, which I never did, so it was usually a birds nest, but thought I should at least make myself look presentable. I got my bag, my keys and my phone. I was about to walk out the door, when I got super nervous. I closed the door, and took a few deep breathes. I kept thinking to myself how stupid I was to be this nervous. I mean, I was going to the movies, not some weird scary place or to his house. I collected myself and headed out the door.

I got to the cinemas first, so I waited. I didn’t know what to do so I played a game called snakes on my phone. I realised I had no cash, so I walked to the ATM and tried to get cash out, but then to my horror, my bank card got stuck. I was mortified. I had no cash, or card, and I was panicking, wondering how the hell I was going to pay for the movie. I wasn’t expecting him to pay for me.

Just as I got my phone out to cancel on him, he called my name. I turned around and was happily surprised at how cute he actually was in person. I smiled and stood there like an idiot. Just smiling. Then I quickly remembered my idiotic situation with my bank card. So I blurted that out saying I have no money because my bank card is stuck in the ATM machine. He was ever so sweet. He offered to pay, not that he had any choice, and told me to immediately call my bank, so I did. They were sending me a new card in a few weeks, which obviously didn’t help me at the time. But he looked like a hero to me then, in my moment of panic. I mean, I really didn’t need to panic that much, but I was horrified that I was going to have to get him to pay.

We got our tickets, he got some popcorn, I went to the bathroom. I always need to urinate before I go into the movies. Then we walked together to the allocated room and found our seats. We sat down and he got to talking. He was super funny and had the most cutest voice. It was deep and husky, and his laugh was so sexy. It made me smile so hard because I didn’t think someone that looked like that would want to even talk to a person like me. Then, out of nowhere, he kissed me as the cinema lights were dimming. I was so glad the room got dark because I was definitely blushing. Bright red. I asked him what that was for, and he said I like you. You’re cute and you have nice lips. I was like OH MY GOD. I was definitely screaming inside but tried to keep it cool on the outside. He then kissed me again. But the kiss was sweet. Not rushed, not overly passionate, seeing as we were in the cinemas, but it was urgent enough to know that he actually genuinely liked me. I don’t remember the movie at all. The only thing I remember is how my lips felt after touching his and how he held my hand all through the movie and even after we left.

The rest of the afternoon was a haze. I don’t remember much, nor do I remember what we did. I have a vague memory of eating, but I know I didn’t eat, cause I couldn’t stomach anything, with all the butterflies. He walked me to the station and we bid farewell. It was bittersweet. But he assured me we’d hang out again, then he gave me one long kiss and then I went home in utter bliss.

This is where shit got real. It had been a few weeks since that date, and I had not heard from him. I knew it was too good to be real. I didn’t bother texting or calling him either. Back then, I thought that was the guys job.

The odd thing is, just as I was about to forget him, he calls me. He was so casual and was apologetic, as he felt like a dick for not texting or calling earlier. I don’t know what it is about him, but I forgave him on the spot. I was all casual and saying don’t worry about it, but in reality, at the back of my head, I was analysing every single detail. We talked for a whole week and we decided to meet up again. This time, he wanted to take me for a drive.

So this continued for about 10 years. We would meet up, he’d say he’d call, but he never did, then out of the blue, when I had just started to forget about him, he’d call and give me the same excuse. But every single time, I accepted his fucked up excuses.

Then the older we got, we kept missing opportunities to see each other. Every time I had a boyfriend, he would be single and every time I was single, he would have a girlfriend. There was no jealousy or animosity between us, but I got to the point, where I had enough of being fucked around by him, so I stopped talking to him for a year. During that year, I had a child. But without a doubt, he was back in my life. He was super nice about my having a child and he seemed to have matured dramatically. Seemed being the keyword.

He decided to ask me out again, and I accepted. We were planning to meet up, and he was going to come pick me up. He then calls me ten mins before we were supposed to meet and tells me he can’t make it. Just as well, I didn’t even bother getting ready as I had an inkling that this would happen. I told him it was fine and that I would speak to him some other time.

Then a few weeks down the track, he asked me to meet him where we had first met for the movies. So I, stupidly, agreed. I went to the location and waited. And waited. And waited. For I would say a good 2 hours. During that time, I tried calling and texting and calling. He didn’t pick up nor did he text me back. I was furious. I felt so stupid and idiotic, that I would trust this guy who kept ditching me at the last minute. I went home, in such a bad mood.

The next day, he calls me at 6:30am. I was already pissed off so this phone call was not helping my mood at all. I answered by saying what, as rudely as I could and he was surprised I was so pissed off, so I proceeded to hang up.

As usual, months went by. I was busy with my life and I didn’t even think of him once. He then calls me and tells me he is moving states. I felt my heart beat twice, but I wasn’t sure why. There was nothing exciting nor anything sad happening. He then asked me that he wanted me to move with him, because he thought we were meant to be. I was so shocked and surprised that, thats what he thought. I laughed and told him that we weren’t and he was adamant to make me change my mind. I was nice about it and flattered but I told him we weren’t and that I’m not interested anymore. I felt so liberated and so relieved that this little part of my life was over.

I really liked that dude. He was nice, and sweet and sexy. But there was never any stability with him. His other girlfriends may have enjoyed that, but I wasn’t that kind of girl. Yes, there was undoubtedly, a really massive attraction between us, but thinking back on it now, I would say it was more sexual than it was romantic. I didn’t love him nor did I like him to the point, where I wanted to see how things panned out. It was a little fling or a crush but it was nothing more nor nothing less.

It’s funny how you remember details about somebody, like the color shirt he was wearing on your first date, which was blue by the way, or the color of his car, which was also blue, I think his favourite color was blue. Things that were so minor then, is what reminds you of them now. I did see him once at a show, and he looked back at me and smiled, and I thought he looked familiar but I couldn’t pick out from where until later. He looked older, obviously, but he still looked really good. And sometimes thats where it ends. Because I couldn’t be happier now with the person I’m with right now, and if it weren’t for that guy on my MSN list, I wouldn’t have learnt so much about myself and so much about how the world of dating worked, in the short span of knowing him, oh, but I guess ten years is pretty long!

by m


Why should I forgive you? You’ve done nothing but constantly try and piss me off. For someone who says they love me, you really have an odd way of showing it. I am not some punching bag that you can take your anger out on nor am I just an object you can choose to ignore when you feel like it. I have every single right to be angry at you and your fucked up excuses. Don’t give me the “oh Im sorry babe, so much shit happened last night”, can’t you come up with a better excuse?

You think that just because we aren’t in the same country, you can just toy with my emotions and feelings? Well Im sorry to say, but you’re completely in the wrong, buddy. I have no desire to play your stupid games. And if I was to play it, I would win. You cannot out run me.

You expect me to be understanding and caring and loving, but I never get any of those in return. I have done so much for you, and that isn’t to say, that I did it expecting something back, but I would like a little show of love or some sort of understanding.

I just told you the other day what I needed from you, and what did you say?… Yea, thats what I thought. Don’t say shit, if you can’t follow through, because that is just as bad as words with no actions.

You want me to visit you in your country, but yet you show no interest in how Im making the plans or how much money I am actually forking out. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t want your money, and I don’t want you to feel bad because Im going there, but a show of compassion for how stressful planning a trip can be would be fucking nice.

You think I enjoy being angry with you? Well, again, you’re wrong. I don’t. I hate it. The only good thing that comes out of this, is my writing. It astounds me that you cannot see what you’re doing. I know you’re not stupid, and I know you have a brain, so maybe you need to use it and think about your actions.

You say that nothing has changed, but it clearly has, because it was never like this. You used to be so understanding, so loving and so caring, but it seems to me like you have decided to stop showing that you care. And to be honest, it fucking hurts. It hurts so much, that it’s gonna take a while for me to get over this bullshit.

You want me to always be there for you, but when do I get the time to have my needs and wants met? Once you’re completely satisfied of being immature and bratty? I do not think that is very fair. I have tried so hard to be patient and not get angry all the time, but my patience is wearing thin. I’m at my boiling point and you have pushed me over my limit.

What bothers me even more is, that you think, I’m angry cause you’re out with your friends, or because you’re drinking. You couldn’t be more farther from the truth. I have no issues with you being fucked up with your friends and doing fucked up shit that boys do when they are out. But ignoring me is really, just gonna make shit worse. What did you say to me before? I’m the best thing thats ever happened to you? Well you fucking show it really well.

This is not a threat, nor an ultimatum, but I will not hang around any longer than I need or want to. I deserve to be treated with respect and dignity, and all you’re doing is treating me like shit. I deserve a “pink”, lovey dovey kind of love, not this disgusting murky black coloured one.

by m


It was hard to breathe. As if water was filling up in her lungs. It constricted her upper body, her arms scrunching up towards her face, her neck, her chest. She hoped that by holding herself with her arms, it will make the pain, dissipate. But it didn’t work. It wasn’t physically her lungs. It was her brain, her mind. And the mind is a lot harder to fix.

She couldn’t remember the last time her mind didn’t fail her. Her mind was dark and gloomy, as if a heavy fog was covering all the important, happy thoughts in her mind. She couldn’t see through this fog, she couldn’t wade through it. She needed more will power, but that will power was hard to come by, when your mind hates you.

She felt alone. No one understood what she was going through. No one could possibly empathise with her. She was always surrounded by people, family, friends, partners. But they were clueless to how she really felt. She tried to always have a smile on her face. She didn’t want people to worry about her. That was her job. To worry. She was a partner, a mother and the eldest in her family. She didn’t have time to think about how her emotions affected her. She had to push them to the back of her mind, and hope that it would disappear eventually.

The only problem with that was, that it became worse. Each day that goes by, her thoughts became darker, more sinister. Not dangerous to others, but very dangerous to herself. She was losing control. She was losing the battle. She would cry in her room everyday. Thinking about all the bad and sad things that have happened in her life. How bad she felt for her child, that he had a mother like her. She felt incompetent. She felt useless. She thought that he’d be better off without her. She loved him so dearly, but she didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the charade.

It was a hot day. She doesn’t like the heat, so she spends her time indoors. This day was a particularly hot day and her mind was swimming with thoughts and ideas. She wanted this to be the last time she felt like this.

She did what she usually does. She sat in her room, looking through old birthday cards, letters and memories. Nothing was different about her schedule. Except that this was the last time she’d do this. She poured her heart out over these memories, sat there, crying. Hurting. She looked at her child’s pictures. He was with his father for the weekend and she knew he wouldn’t be coming home. She kept reassuring herself that this was what’s best for him. It broke her heart to leave him behind, but she knew she had to. She didn’t want to bring him down into her darkness. He was such a happy, sweet little boy. He didn’t need this dark energy around him. She loved him more than anything in the world. She wrote him a letter. Telling him how much she adored him and that she hoped he would forgive her and not to worry because she would always be there with him and love him forever. She looked at the letter. Not entirely satisfied with it, but she couldn’t keep writing, her eyes were blurry with tears. She held the letter to her heart until she decided it was time. She put the letter in an envelope and wrote his name. Put it with a big teddy bear that she had gotten earlier. It wouldn’t suffice. It wouldn’t be enough, but she told herself it would. She couldn’t let her mind win today.

She walked outside her room, and looked down the corridor. She lived in a massive house. She walked into his room, and picked up all his toys and made his bed. She touched every single item of clothing in his closet. She picked out his favourite and laid them on his bed. She sprayed her perfume on them. She thought he could keep her smell with him always, knowing he always picks this set.

She walked down the corridor, looking at the hanging pictures. She wondered which picture was her last happy one. She couldn’t tell. No one could. She was so good at faking a smile, that, that has become her ‘real’ smile. Her mask. Her cover up of what she was really feeling.

She got to the kitchen. Her domain. Where they will most likely find her. She sat down, on the cold hard floor. She lifted her knees to her face and held them tight. She sat there for a while, rocking back and forth, crying. Wondering if she was doing the right thing. She tried to shake the uncertainty from her mind. She had already made up her mind. She was going to do this. It took her months to think of ways to do this. Minimum pain, and minimum mess for whoever found her. She researched and looked online and found numerous forums for people like her.

She found the perfect method. Overdose. She wasn’t going to make a mistake like some people do. She was planning on taking the whole bottle, hoping it would work quicker and less painful. She didn’t want the chance to survive. She wanted to be completely gone by the time her partner came home.

She got up. Got a glass of water. Took the water and her pills and sat back down. She opened the bottle, looked inside, and tried to figure if she could drink it all in one gulp. She took half of them out in her hand. She put it all in her mouth, took the water, and kept knocking them back. Then she did it to the other half. She didn’t feel anything at first. A few minutes passed, she started to feel drowsy. Started to get headspins. She could feel her lungs gasping for air. She thought this was it. This was how she was going to die. She hugged herself. Hoping it’ll help with minimising the pain. She lied down and curled herself into a ball. The pain was unbearable. Her life started to flash before her. She cried. She wanted to see her child’s face one more time. She wanted to see him, she wanted to hold him and hug him. She could feel herself disappearing, her mind going blank.

The last thing she thought of was how much she loved her child….and then it was black.

by m