ashmitawrites

[ashmitawrites]

I want to love again

As much as I want to love again, I dread the day it finds me, because that means I'll have to stop loving you. The day will come when I meet a good man who memorizes my coffee order opens the door for me and is good to my mother. He will be nothing I want but everything I need. And as we sit at the table talking about things I don't give a shit about, but probably should, all I can think about is how he put too many sugars in his coffee and how you like yours black. This man will be gentle. He won't raise his voice when he's angry. He won't slam doors or leave me shaking in the kitchen. He will not love me in a way that feels like drowning and yet sitting across from him, I will feel nothing but empty. I will hate the way he smiles at me like I'm something delicate. Hate the way he reaches from my hand with certainty instead of hesitation, as if he never once feared losing me. Hate the way he tells me I'm good, I'm soft, I'm worthy. Because if I was so worthy, then why was it so easy for you to leave me? He will kiss me, and I will let him, and it will not be bad, it will be sweet, it will be safe, and I will hate every second of it, because my therapist claims I don't want love unless it's ruining me, and there is no prescription for that. No therapy session can unteach me what it felt like to be loved by you. He will touch me gently, and I will crave the violence of you. He will love me softly, and I will resent him for not tearing me apart. He will hold me like I am something precious, and I will feel nothing but rage, because I do not want to be cherished. I want to be consumed and still I will marry him. He will build me a house with his bare hands, place my name on the deed and promise me forever. He will paint the nursery in soft yellows and greens, pick out the safest car seat and be the kind of father who reads bedtime stories and kisses scraped knees, he will give our children the stability I never had, the love I never believed in. I will sit across from him at the breakfast table decades from now, my hair streaked with gray wrinkles etched into my skin, and I will watch him pour too many sugars in his coffee. And I'll wonder if somewhere in the world, you are sitting across from someone else drinking yours black thinking of me. And in that moment, I'll realize this man could build me a house, but he could never make it home. And still, I will sit across from this man, this good man, this safe man, and I will nod when he speaks, and I will laugh at the right times, and I will let him love me in the only way he knows how, but I will never love him back, because I don't know how to love when it doesn't hurt.

[ashmitawrites]

Dear Fear of Death

I know death is coming for me, just like it is coming for everyone else. What I don't know is - when it will be here. That makes all my life plans, my long-term and short-term goals seem futile. If I am not going to live to see tomorrow, or I don't know whether I will, what are all these plans for? I kept asking myself this question until one fine day, a phase came where I had nothing to do with the whole 24 hours of my day.

That is when I realized that the journey is slightly more important than the destination. We make plans and set goals so that we have something to do today. I worry too much about the final outcome, to the end that I forget I am meant to live in the present.

Death is the final outcome. Spending your whole life worrying about death is equivalent to being dead on the inside but barely alive on the outside. Take it from somebody who knows what it's like- the second time I had a life-threatening experience, the fear went out of the window.

As death comes for you when it has to, you will be at peace. Till the, live every moment being exactly who you want to be, doing what you want to do. So that, when death does come, you have no regrets. Death isn't meant to scare you, it is meant to motivate you - like time. It is a ticking clock that pushes your boundaries and makes you perform- till the day it stops.

A (5.4.25)

[ashmitawrites]

Loneliness

My life did not have a lot of things in it But it did have the comfort of silence & peace I came back home to myself, made my own dinner It didn't matter even if I did not come back Cause I had nobody waiting on me Some would call that loneliness, I call that freedom.

Even when I remember and love the memories Of the man I couldn't keep for myself I don't crave the man, I crave the love Ending up having the freedom to go seek for it But finding loneliness instead. Not all people come into your life to add value, Most just come to take away from you Had I realized that sooner, I wouldn't have Gone to look for the man I lost, in every man I met Not everyone will love you, some will just ruin you.

I was swept off my feet by a pretending man Only to be pinned to his bed and strangled I opened up my heart and body to him But his mask only fell off as he slapped me I saw the Devil in his eyes, although I could Hardly see with my head bashing against the wall. I admit that my flaw is that I trust people too easily But I am imperfect and everyone is I just did not know having a pure heart Is an imperfection I need to work on.

Every time I find someone who somewhat understands me, Or acts like he does, I try to love and empathize So yes, I might understand why he did what he did But I will never understand what I did to deserve it I see his perspective, but I won't overlook my boundaries The kind of apocalypse and pain I am having to suffer Because of somebody else's lack of self control Is something I will never understand. Everyone you love hurts you- they can't hurt you If you don't care about them at all But if love is directly related to pain like that Why is it always pain Where is my share of love?

A (6. 4. 25)

[ashmitawrites]

Dear Fear of Lack of Freedom

I know you are a part of me that loves me. I am so kind and loving to everyone around me by nature, that I often get exploited and treated like a doormat. No one deserves that, especially not me. So, every time when I get taken advantage of you are reborn. You try to warn me, to protect me from getting hurt. You try to teach me boundaries, but more often than not, you lose sight of them yourself. It causes me to lead a life shrouded in confusion. Whom should I trust and listen to? Do they want the best for me, or are they looking after their own benefits? Are they advising me out of sheer goodwill, or do they want to control me to get what they want?

Growing up, I have felt this immense pressure to live up to a certain standard. To be a model daughter, to have perfect grades and manners, to never have a hair out of place. I rarely, if ever, had the opportunity to think about what I want and take decisions independently. It was always controlled by what would make my parents happy and proud of me. I did not grow up learning to love myself, I grew up learning to be selfless and love others.

It started with my parents, but old habits die hard. My nature continued to live on within me. Everywhere I went, I would try to impress the person in front of me, make them love me, do anything to make them happy- at the cost of my own sanity. I started losing sight of who I am. I started focusing more on who people wanted me to be. And hence, my dear fear, you are absolutely real.

I don't know when, but at some point in my life, I made the correct decision of exploring what I like and what I don't. And that was one of the best decisions of my life. I tasted freedom then, true individuality and independence. Freedom feels like flying. It feels like no one can stop you, but yourself. It makes you feel so powerful that you start wondering why you ever bowed down. And that power is one hell of an addiction. I am not ashamed to admit it, I am addicted. To be able to be unapologetically you in a world that keeps trying to turn you into someone you are not at every turn- that is the most elevated form of power one can possess.

My fear is of losing that power. My fear is of losing myself and falling into traps instead of flying. But the thing about power is, it can be claimed back as easily as it can be lost- as long as the power is yours to hold. So my dear fear, calm yourself down. You reside within a powerful woman, and you are a part of what makes her powerful. As long as you exist, my fear, you have nothing to worry about. Cause you will shield me from choices that make me lose my power.

You, my dear fear, are also powerful. But I decide whether you live or die, because you are a part of me. I am more powerful than you ever will be.

A. (13.10.24)

[ashmitawrites]

the overwhelming feeling of sadness sometimes when someone treats me with kindness

[ashmitawrites]

Dear Fear of Failure

The past is just that, the past. There is no value in trying to look for your footsteps. I know I have made some choices in the past, several mistakes that have led you to come to life. But at the same time, mistakes are also lessons. I have learnt from them, and I have grown into a much more stable, balanced person.

Previously, I used to love others in my life so deeply that I forgot how to take care of myself and love myself too. I got immensely hurt because of that, which almost led to my death that one time I drank too much rum while not eating enough to provide nutrition to my body. As a result, alcohol overdose and poisoning happened, my blood pressure fell, and my heart almost stopped beating. Almost, but not enough. I survived. It was like a rebirth for me, I understood the value of my own life. I realized that nobody was worth giving up your life for and no emotional pain is enough to directly lead to the heart stopping. It is our actions that lead the way to what the rest of our life looks like, not the actions of others. They live with their actions just like we have to live with ours.

Having learned all of that at the tender age of seventeen, I have never made the same mistakes again. I admit, the tendency to put others before my own self is still there, it is in my nature. But I have learned to fight with my nature for the greater good of my own self.

You see, feelings are not real. Thoughts are not real either. Those are things that happen to float around in our brains from the actions of our own selves and others. So, if certain things are not real, what's the point in trying to control them? The only thing that is real is our actions. And actions are what we all should try to control.

Take this, for example. I felt scared. I thought that I would fail in life. Neither the feeling nor the thought would help me reach my desired outcome. If I tried to control them, in the end they would end up controlling me instead. I would have had two courses of action that would have had real value in my life- either let my fear control me and end up inevitably making it real, or I could act in a way that would never let the fear become the truth. I could work so hard that even if the nagging fright persisted, my actions to the contrary of it and the real outcomes it led to would eradicate the fear and make it unreal.

That is exactly what I have to do. That is what we all have to do. In a world full of feelings and thoughts, focus on the actions. Segregate the real from the unreal and always remember that actions are the only thing that can make other things change from one to the other- real to unreal, and vice versa. It is up to you what you choose to act upon and what you want your life to look like.

A (5.10.24)

[ashmitawrites]

Margaret Atwood, “The Blind Assassin.”

[ashmitawrites]

Dear Fear of Abandonment

The situation that I am in right now, you are quite legitimate. His actions are speaking quite loudly. But as you might know, actions, like words, can also have multiple meanings. Actions, like words, can also be deceiving. The only thing that is not deceiving though, is time. Time has its own way of showing everybody's truth, including your own. You are rational, my fear, and this is how I will make space for you. Through time. Time will not only bring out his truth, but my own truth too. My own truth regarding whether I still love him and more importantly, whether I still want him in my life. Love, like most feelings, is also deceptive. It is often not good for you in the long run, even if it makes you feel good in the short run. It is a huge, wide world. There must be someone else who is more suited for me than I consider him to be.

The universe has a flawed, but beautiful symmetry. Heaven and hell, earth and sky, fire and water, love and hatred. Everything in this universe has its own way of finding balance. And maybe, if he doesn't come back to me, it's the universe's way of correcting that imbalance. If it's meant to be, the universe will find a way to keep us together, just like heaven and hell.

In some ways, we switch roles. Once in a while, he becomes heaven when I am hell and once in a while, I become heaven when he is hell. I would like to think that we had both become hell, causing imbalance and friction, which did not sit well with the universe. Whatever it is, whether he comes back or not, I will be okay.

I am smart, talented, authentic, beautiful and loved. I deserve the world. If he doesn't come back to me, it does not mean that he is not worthy of giving me the world, or that he is not capable. It just means that people are all born unique and different, and the worlds we each seek and find peace in are different too.

Our worlds collided for a bit, and it was the most beautiful mess to ever exist. He was the sky, and I was the ocean, both infinite and both flowing in our own directions. When we collided, the world stopped to watch. But these infinities never meet. They are destined to collide and be a breathtaking sight, they are destined to yearn for each other for the eternities in which they exist. But they have to put their love at rest, cause in the end, it's still a mess- no matter how enchanting.

So, dear fear of mine, do not worry. What's mean to be will be. The universe will continue to operate in harmony. And if that harmony means I never meet someone else and spend the rest of my life alone, what can be more wholesome than that? It is the universe's way of telling me that I alone am enough. It is the universe's way of telling me that I don't need someone to find balance, that I am my own heaven and hell.

A (4.10.24)

[ashmitawrites]

“Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have known what to do. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love.”

— Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eye

[ashmitawrites]

“Don’t abuse a kind heart. You may never be offered one again.”

— Pokello Nare

[ashmitawrites]

everyone: what's your goal in life?

me: to write a story so soul snatching, so gut wrenching and so devastatingly beautiful that it leaves you crying at 3am when you have a 8am lecture/shift and it inspires people to write entire essays, to write entire fanfics, mood boards and playlists based on it.

[ashmitawrites]

“How long they choose to love you will never be your decision.”

— Drake; Thank Me Now

[ashmitawrites]

“I’ve always loved the idea of not being what people expect me to be.”

— Dita Von Teese

[ashmitawrites]

Clarity

If I’m writing about you, I can’t not start with what you always say. What you’ve ingrained in my mind and what I’ve come to believe even stronger than I did before, and that is, GOD DID. God really did. He sent you in my life, as a gift, a ray of light to blind me from all the darkness I’ve had to see. As a gentle apology for the rough times, maybe. When I look into your eyes sometimes, I get lost. I hear a voice that is not yours. 

“My child, I’ve put you in all the wrong places throughout your life not as a test. I knew you’d make it through, I built you that way. The ulterior motive was to prepare you for the happiness I had in store for you. The intention was to allow you to make all possible mistakes you could and learn from them, so that when the time comes, you do it right. The time has come.”

And then I snap back. You take me to places I haven’t been before, places that aren’t necessarily comfortable but always enriching. You make me see things from the beautiful floor to ceiling windows in your home. The home that you’re building for us, which is full of love and respect despite disagreements and differences. You make me see the twinkling lights from far away and the grand scheme of things, but never once do you forget to remind me how high up we are, how much more we’re yet to rise. Sure, I had my own dreams before I met you, I still do. You teach me to dream bigger, because you see me as more than I see myself. You see in me, what I can’t see in myself.

The first night I met you, I honestly had no idea that things would turn out this way. But I recall the moment your fingers entwined around mine, with a certain kind of physical strength I had never felt before. Whether it was just physical, is debatable. But I felt strength in your grip, I felt safe. Not just from the evil things on the planet, but also safe from my own demons. I felt protected in a way I never had, felt that this man wouldn’t just fight the world for me (and win), he would fight me too if it meant I walked on the path I’m meant to. The thing about trust is, most of it goes unspoken. And it truly did. I started trusting you a little from the moment you held my hand.

When your lips touched my forehead next, I felt respect. I felt seen as beyond an attractive young woman. The way you held on to every word I said with utmost sincerity, I felt heard. And not only did you listen, you responded by staying true to yourself and your beliefs, never once offending mine. I felt respect again. You talked about almost everything under the sun from music to marketing and pedophilia and religion and science and God and finance, and boy did I feel respect. I felt awe at your intelligence. I could have one conversation with you and learn more than I would in an hour of studying a textbook. The thing about respect is, it has to be earned. People spend their whole lives working to earn that, you did it in one night.

When you pushed me onto your bed, undressed me and kissed me hard, I felt hunger. Your skin against mine, my whole body was on fire- it had never felt like that with someone I met for the first time. I felt belonging, I felt remembrance. You seemed to be someone I had loved passionately in a past life. When you were inside me, I felt aggression and ownership. For the first time in my life, an independent, sassy boss like me, felt the urge to surrender herself. To you and solely you. The thing about ownership is, it has to be claimed. And you did not shy away from it. Every touch since that first night is the physical manifestation of the word “mine”.

When you warmed up rice and veggies for me and fed me with your own hands, I felt cared for. When you made a stupid joke about forgetting my name and saw the hurt in my eyes, I felt love. I started thinking I was just another random girl to you. I couldn’t get words out of my mouth, so I fell silent. As I laid there naked on your bed without making a single noise, you weren’t distracted. Your one single focus was making sure I’m okay again, and you would stop at nothing till I smiled again. I think that is the moment I fell. I remember you telling me that night itself that you were falling for me, I felt happiness like never before. I wish I could tell you too, but I was scared. When you took the initiative and asked me “What are we?,” knowing the difficult circumstances that we’d have to face in the near future, I felt brave. I felt like if I had you by my side, I could conquer the world.

I can’t possibly list down how fulfilled you make me feel, intensifying every emotion to such heights that it’s hard to distinguish between falling in love and flying. So I tried to describe the initial feelings, the ones that made me realise I was wrong all along about having nothing left to give. I loved, but it was dull and blurry.

I have never loved someone in full brightness and clarity until you.

A (16.1.24)

[ashmitawrites]

“Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness.”

— Katherine Henson

[ashmitawrites]

“I’ve always loved the idea of not being what people expect me to be.”

— Dita Von Teese

[ashmitawrites]

“They may not have loved you, but they did change you. They taught you. They grew you.”

— Bianca Sparacino