It's been two years from that day, and I can imagine you right beside me, sitting on the bed with your socks underneath the covers for they had holes in them, just like your soul did. Even now, after all this time, I can see you floundering about, hoping to find something to believe in. I still remember how joyous you found writing here, silently sending out prayers of gratefulness to the mystical universe out there.
I know how you feel and I know what's coming up. There will be days when you'll be scared and alone, when you'll face heartbreak because the bonds you believed in didn't come through. Even after all that pain, you'll find yourself trusting others again, because you want someone with whom you could relate to, with whom you could whisper, "The books had it right all along."
Life might seem dark right now with suicidal tendencies welling up within you. I know you'll end up reaching out to the one bond you hold close, seeking to find home and comfort there. It'll keep you warm and sane, it'll give you a reason to live. I'll not mince words with you, it's going to be a difficult road from now on. You'll stumble and fall, you'll end up curling into a ball with tears falling on the duvet.
I know you find this hard to believe, but good times will come, just like mother promised. You'll remember all the stories which lifts your spirit up. You'll find love where you least expect it to come from. There will be days when you'll feel like a child again when father tells how we were small enough to fit in his arm only to have outgrown him now. That's where you'll find your first home, in their arms. They'll always be there, with their endearing warmth as they'll always stand in your corner - being your rock whenever you need them to be.
But, I know you best. You'll always be in search of a home, for all the happiness you've known always had a sense of sorrow lurking underneath it. I know that you associate joy with upcoming pain, weary of the battle which has been going on each day within you. I know that you still go for walk at midnight, with only the moon above you and your own thoughts making it difficult to breathe.
It breaks me to say this, but there'll be a day when it'll seem unbearable and difficult to wake up and you'll find yourself questioning the purpose of life. I wish I could say that it'll get better from there, for the moment you end up there - everything you know will fall apart, fear will grip your heart, days will pass in a monotone blur and even your tears will dry up for there'd be nothing left inside.
Allow me to step in here, allow me to instill a few words for you. I know that there'll be a weight on your chest and nothing I say or do would make it easier. Yet, I want you to know that I'll be there every step of the way. You'll know when you reach there and for that time, I want you to promise me that you'll try to pick yourself up. That's what I'll ask from you, a promise that you'll never give up.
I'll confess, barely months after that time, you'll find believing in your past and present again. Stories of those good times yet to come will begin in earnest and you will find someone to hold on to. You'll learn what happiness is, unabirdled with any other emotions this time. It'll be difficult reaching here, but you'll be grateful for everything which has occurred.
For all the heartbreaks which might ensue, all those people who'll walk in and trample on your heart - this is the reason you'll be living for. I won't spoil the surprise by revealing everything here, just trust me that good things are on their way. They always are.
I've learnt one thing during these past two years, and I'll tell it to you now - because you'll be walking the same journey. The same paths that I took and fell down upon, only you'll have me this time round.
You've always been on the search for a home. You thought you had it in a friend, only for him to betray you. You thought you located it in your own journal, and it hurt the most when it went up in flames. You think you have it in her, with her promises and warmth, that'll go away too. Everything you've known, it'll be for naught.
Yet, it'll be the reason you'll end up where you are. And maybe that's what we need from time to time, going through the motions to make us into who we are.
I know you're terrified right now, shaken and broken. Two years, give yourself two years and you'll have everything you wished for. A home, a family, warmth and love.
And I'll all begin from here, the first write on this platform. So, take a deep breath, believe in me and begin. You'll find your peace in your finale, and you'll be right here along with me. You'll still have a long way to go, but that'll be for a different letter.
This is from me to you, a message full of pain and promises. Words full of love and hope, for this will happen, and you'll live.
Believe, and you'll be everything you dreamed to be.
Yours, Two years elder self.
200. This has been a long time coming. Mirakee has changed, I've changed. In a way, we all have grown up a bit. I found a home here, people I'd miss if they weren't here.
Without this app, I'd not have turned into who I am, I wouldn't have found happiness. But, as always, all good things come to an end.
I'll keep on writing, I'll always write.
But sometimes you need to close the door at a happy note. For it's just that time.
Let this be an indefinite hiatus, for who knows what the future holds.
The constant struggle in our life trying to find where we belong. Whether we made the right choice or the wrong one. Trying to figure out the way the world works in its own wicked ways.
I'm lost. and found. was I here before? caught between a mirage and a miracle, maybe!
All I can see is this land, fuming flames of baffled souls bewildered and alone, proliferating through the endless horizon. battle cries and disfigured dreams red skies consuming the last bit of blues.
waiting for a miracle yet trapped in this mirage.
Am I walking backward? forward? or sideways? how can you tell the difference when there is no path but an infinite loop?
Does it matter?
Maybe I am the alchemist that never returned, never found the treasure but gone insane.
clocks that ticked and moments that died, walking upside down for a new perspective. looking for a new people behind the camouflaged outfits, but, they all looks the same. a cry, a smile they all sound the same.
why all the season smells like death? every little poem I wrote turned into a eulogy. for the forlorn hearts and scars they never saw every paradise dream ended up in the wasteland, I'm turning this last bit of blood into ink trying to write a masterpiece so dark, to find the light.
pared off the sanity to feel alive, embracing the scars, carved so deep into my bones in red. how do I know I belong when everyone wears masks to hide the hollow heart? offer me a heart, make me half again. offer a place by the fireplace, behind that inconspicuous window I'll scribble these verses away, a cry into the dark to know the depths.