I don’t ask for much
Just stay up
Talking with me
Listening to all my nonsense
My insecurities
Let me pour it out
So you can catch it all
And throw it to the wind

That is all I ask of you


Seven billion souls

There comes a point in our lives where the love of our parents and immediate family is not enough to make us feel loved, and we want to experience a different kind of love. 

And you search and search for that kind of love. And somewhere down the line, you are still as alone as you ever were. As alone and lonely as when you first started looking for that special kind of love.

And I was just alone with my bathroom thoughts when I realised that after years of trying to find love, I am still very much alone. And it was a very sobering feeling.

Like, imagine, if you were to die tomorrow, there would be no one else to miss you or love you other than your parents, immediate family and maybe a handful of friends. 

And there are seven billion souls in this world. Yet, not one of them is going to miss you in that special I’ve-lost-part-of-my-soul kind of way.

It is a really lonely feeling. Imagine, when you are an only child like me, and your parents are no more, you just know that there is no one in this world who actually, truly cares what happens to you. Like, there is no one to whom you specially belong or connect on another level.

Imagine that. It makes you feel so small. Sort of like you are just floating around without something to anchor you down.

How does one end up so completely alone in a world where it is teeming with equally lonely people? Wondering about the same thing staring at their cold dish of pasta for one in a one bedroom apartment?

How does one get to that point? 

Saturday thoughts 

​So these are just some random thoughts I really can’t seem to get over, which I thought I’d share with you.

So lately I’ve really been craving a decent relationship. With a special someone. This may sound silly but I’m quite in the mood for some cute cuddles. To just snuggle up with each other and spend a lazy weekend doing nothing in particular. Someone I could wrap my arms around when I watch a horror movie. To cook something new together. Try something new. To bitch about how much work sucks over text, and for him to say he’d love to kick my boss’s butt. Stuff like that. The little stuff. Someone to give back rubs to, and receive. Talk about our future babies and wonder if they will have my hair or his eyes. Invest a little so that we could buy a house together. Someone who appreciates a good book or at least would respect my love of books. Take a spontaneous trip together. Go hunting for baked goods at 2.00am just because we felt like it.

It seems that men who appreciate the little things in life, the real things in life, are becoming harder and harder to find.

And it’s a lonely business. Being this emotional and sensitive in a world that’s becoming a little less emotional and sensitive with every passing minute

The kids we will never have

Why can’t I stop fantasizing about the kids we will never have? It is so wrong but oh how cute they will be! If it’s a boy he will surely have your spiky hair which stands up all over your head whenever it gets tousled. It would be so adorable and that is the reason my heart melts every time I see a spiky haired little baby boy. It reminds me of the son we will never have. 

Our kids would love deep and hard, just like their parents. They would feel everything ten times harder than other people do and our boy might keep it all bottled up like you do. Hopefully our girl would be a bit more like her mommy and talk about things!

They would write adorable, ardent poems for their first crush and hide them from the prying eyes of the world. A closely guarded secret. And also because they probably are terrible at flirting like us. And also because writing about their feelings is second nature, just like it is to us. I wish I could tell them it was your writing that first drew me to you in a more wholesome manner. I always wanted a man who could write, especially poems!

Our babies might be completely different from us. But still inextricably be us. At their very core they would be a mix of both you and I.

They would be beautiful.

They would never come to be.