wijisblog

[wijisblog]

The Battle of the Archer in Me

"𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯."

I’ve done a lot of reflection lately and have reached a point in my life where I want to start living for myself. As long as I’m not hurting anyone, I believe I should be free to follow my own path.

But I’ve also come to realize that living isn’t something we’re meant to do entirely alone. Part of truly living means having people around you—those who make you feel seen, valued, and understood, who help you navigate the chaos of life and stand beside you through its highs and heartbreaks. While independence is empowering, it’s connection that gives life its meaning.

I learned to trust people and slowly allowed a few truly great ones into my life. My friends became my safe place—I’d go to great lengths for them, just as they’ve done for me. They made it okay for me to be vulnerable. They were there when I couldn’t stand on my own, showing up for me in the middle of their own battles, making me feel protected, loved, and remembered in the smallest, most thoughtful ways.

So betrayal from them was the last thing I ever expected. These were the people who knew me inside out, who saw past my mask of strength and understood that I was just a crybaby surviving years of trauma.

When it happened—when I was betrayed—I didn’t know how to process it. All I knew was pain. I questioned everything: where I went wrong, how they truly saw me, whether they ever judged me. The deepest cut came from the one I considered my person—the one who once told me, “It’s okay to not be okay.”

Since then, trusting others has felt like walking barefoot on broken glass. I can’t share my story with just anyone anymore, because I fear that my vulnerability will be turned against me. I don’t want to live through another night of swollen eyes and grief that twists itself inside my chest.

This heartbreak isn’t the kind you get from a boy breaking your heart or people disliking you—it’s deeper than that. It’s the kind that comes from losing the ones who once made you feel safe.

I’m still trying to learn how to hold on without having to let go, still trying to accept that love and loss can sometimes exist in the same breath.

There are days when I hardly recognize myself. I’ve changed—and not all of that change was my choice. Some parts of me were torn away; others, I had to bury just to survive.

And still, despite it all, I continue to love deeply, give freely, and hope endlessly that someone might stay. That haunting line echoes in my mind: “Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?”

I used to think that being soft was a flaw, something to harden or fix. But now I see—my softness is the bravest part of me. To feel this deeply in a world that teaches us to numb is an act of courage, not weakness.

I’m learning that healing doesn’t mean forgetting; it means carrying the pain without letting it carry me. I’m rebuilding my walls—not to shut people out, but to remind myself where the door is and who I’ll allow to enter again.

Maybe one day, I’ll be able to open up without shaking. Maybe one day, someone will hold space for all of me—the strong and the shattered parts too.

But until then, I’m here. Still standing. Still growing. Still believing that I am worthy of the love I so willingly give to others.

[wijisblog]

Ocean and Engines 11:55 - 2:35

How can a person easily forget you after making you feel something special? Or maybe the question should be: How can an individual easily forget the person who made them feel special, heard, and understood?

I don’t believe in things like “meant to be,” destiny, or the red string theory. Those are childish notions. But when it was us, I wanted to believe in them. I guess I’m more of a hopeless romantic than I thought. I wanted to believe that some invisible string tied us together, something unseen but unbreakable. But maybe I played too much, got ahead of everything, and in doing so, forgot to pay for my karma. I rushed what we had, grew impatient, and expected too much too soon. Because of that, I ended up hurting too—maybe even more than I ever expected. The truth is, I could’ve carried your burden. I would’ve, gladly. Somehow, you made it easier for me to breathe, to believe, even in the hard days. You were too good to be true, so good that not a single day passed without the fear of losing you. And maybe that’s what hurts the most: knowing I had something so rare, so real… and still, I lost it.

So this is where I say goodbye—not out of anger or bitterness, but out of acceptance. Perhaps in another life, we could have been the version of us we dreamed of in this one—a love without confusion and a timing that didn’t break us. I hope you find someone you can love without fearing you’re a burden and that you reach a place in your life where love comes to you clearly, without fear or doubt. You will never be forgotten, but now I must place my heart and mind where they should belong.

Dear Reader, Let this be a lesson: be careful when you invite someone into your life if you know you're not ready to hold space for them. Broken people often hurt others—until it becomes a cycle. Don’t jinx away your person. And above all, always communicate your thoughts. It might save something before it slips away.

[wijisblog]

No Man Is an Island

When I was younger, I once heard a teacher say, "You can't survive life alone." I remember whispering to myself, "I can." From that moment on, I was determined to prove that I could and would get through the school year without any friends.

At the time, I had just moved to a small town, still in the same province but a different city. Everything felt unfamiliar, and I convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone. I believed solitude would be my strength, that I could navigate life on my own without relying on others.

But as the weeks passed, I found myself surrounded by a circle of friends. Slowly, they made their way into my life, turning ordinary days into unforgettable memories. I still remember how they made me feel special, beautiful, and truly seen. They didn’t just help me survive; they made me realize that life is meant to be lived with laughter, shared experiences, and meaningful connections.

With them, I stepped out of my comfort zone, trying things I once feared. What had once intimidated me became the very reason I now crave adventure and new challenges. Their presence taught me that growth often comes from the things we resist the most.

Before I knew it, the people who had entered my life had become a part of me. They shaped the person I am today, showing me the joy of companionship and the power of genuine friendships. They reminded me that happiness isn’t just about independence. It is also about allowing yourself to be loved and to love in return.

Looking back, I realize now that my teacher was right. No one can truly survive life alone. But maybe it’s not just about survival. Maybe it’s about truly living, and that’s something we can only do when we let others in.

Dear Reader, Letting others into our lives means taking a risk, but without trust, we also shut ourselves off from all the good things in life that we may have otherwise missed.

[wijisblog]

Piecing Life Together: The Parallels Between Puzzles, Writing, and Self-Discovery

Puzzles and writing were two of the few things I truly enjoyed when I was younger. They share similarities, such as how writing helps me identify my feelings once I've gathered my thoughts, and how puzzles only start to make sense when you're halfway through solving them. While they may seem like ordinary activities to some, both help me reconnect with myself, offering a space to imagine and reflect.

Both activities allow my imagination to roam freely, providing solitude and happiness. Even though starting with a blank canvas or a pile of scattered puzzle pieces can be overwhelming, I find comfort in the process. As you begin to assemble the pieces and each one falls into place—almost as if they have a life of their own and are meant to fit together—a sense of satisfaction slowly emerges. After hours of struggle, it all finally makes sense, and the struggle becomes part of the reward.

These activities feel a lot like life—messy and unpredictable at times, but eventually, everything falls into place. At the end of the day, it’s just me and my scattered thoughts against the world.

Dear reader, I hope you find the courage to discover where you truly fit in this society. Remember, easy is often wrong. The struggle to piece everything together is what gives life its meaning. As they say, "Sometimes, the hardest part of life is knowing which piece fits where. But when it does, the picture is worth the wait."