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Dance.

I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow

And each road leads you where you want to go

I hope this life becomes all that you wanted to

Your dreams stay big

Your worries stay small

You never have to carry more than you can hold

And when you’re out there getting where you getting to

I hope you know somebody loves you

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And if its cold outside,

Show the world the warmth of your smile

But more than anything

I hope you dance.

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Time capsule, sorta.

I love writing. I love putting my feelings into words. I love analyzing things. I love remembering exciting experiences, the heartbreaking ones too. I love witnessing myself grow, psychologically. I love how my writings show that I see things differently now. The one thing I probably love the most is writing to my future self. Weird I know. I usually do this when I’m sad, when I face many obstacle in my anxious life, when I’m at my lowest low and don’t know what to do anymore, or sometimes I just do it spontaneously.

Nothing fancy, I write just to ask how my future self is doing? Are you happy now? Do you remember this one time when you almost give up on everything? Do you still watch this series? Have you found him yet? Then I start explaining about what’s going on with my present life, what I’m feeling, and what my hopes are for the future. They’re such nice reminders, when you open them up 2 years later, that you’ve been going through hell and still made it out alive.

I just opened one today. Its addressed to “My future someone”… cringey I know. Blame my 22 years old self. Finding someone has been a huge thing for me. Cause I’m a hopeless romantic, but I’m scared by the idea of “loving someone” or getting to know someone. I’m a damaged good and I didn’t think someone would ever want me. Reading the letter put me in tears. So here goes, a letter to my future someone:

Dear future someone,

Hello there, I don’t know what to call you yet, I’m Sari, by the way. This may seems a bit awkward, but today i watched one of Will’s videos about a love letter to the loved one. He’s collecting love letters all across the globe and putting it in his book. So I thought why not write one to you? Soooo, stranger, how are you? I hope you’re doing fine, wherever you are. I hope you’re healthy, cause the weather is crazy here (talking about weather hahaha we’re real strangers, huh?). Anyway I just want to let you know that I’m still here, waiting and praying patiently. I honestly don’t know what else to do (or not do), so that I can meet you, talk to you, share my story with you (I bet you’re a good listener). Don’t ever lose hope on me okay? Just.. keep looking. Keep looking for a shy looking girl who hates the spotlight, who would rather stand in the corner with gadget in hand, in a room full of people. I may not look that attractive but I’m sure you can see beyond that. I know I have this “bitch fuck off” face, but I hope you won’t stop trying to get to know me. I know I may seem like I don’t care, but I do. Keep looking for an introvert girl with tons of cat memes, music and tv series references, who loves reading and dancing in her room. Keep looking for an overly sensitive girl, she needs your rescue. And when you’re 99.99999% sure that it’s me, don’t hesitate to come, run, hug me. You better hurry old man (lol jk), I’ve been waiting for too damn long!

I hope you’re enjoying life, I hope you’re happy. I’m still here. Always will.

Lots of love.

How I wish I could give myself a hug and told her that its going to be okay, that someone (a stranger indeed) will come along and love you so deep you could burst. That he’s a good listener, that he can see beyond your chubby figure, insecurity, and anxiousness. That he didn’t give up on you even when your messed up mind told you to give up on him multiple times. That he found a way to get close to you, despite all your “I dont wanna be with someone who doesn’t know a thing about music, tv shows, movies, books, or medicine” mindset. That he is in fact much older than you! Funny how the little things in this letter turn out to be true.

I won’t take him for granted. I won’t take any of these feelings for granted. X

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Hey, you ☔.

Your understanding

Your never ending patience

Your laugh at my outbursts

Your “yes”es to my absurd requests

Your texts and those emojis

Your military talks

The way you easily, single-handedly throw my insecurities out of the window

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” you said

The way you look at me with your big brown eyes

Your love for your mum

Your warm hands

Your warm embrace

Your gentle pat on my back when we say goodbye

Your love

And the way you’re letting me know that I’m loved.

You.

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I think that the person who is best fit to love you isn’t someone who makes you feel the happiest, but someone who makes you feel the biggest, the most. Even when you become jagged and figuratively cut him like the broken glass you are, he will still, and always be, in awe of how fucking stunning you look, shining in the light, colours bouncing off your broken tips into the world around you; he wouldn’t even care if he bled to death.

-Wankerville

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Plot frickin twist.

I’ve been dormant for 9 months! Wow! Nope I didn’t elope or get pregnant. I just got lost in the moment. I thought nothing could ever top 2017, I was so scared to let it go. But then 2018 happens. I can’t even begin to explain how mind-boggling this year is. Living in Madiun for a year has taught me a lot. I grew as a person. I learned to interact with other human beings, tolerate their jokes and point of view. I learned how to be comfortable around new people (I’m still awkward, still not your typical social butterfly, but hey, slow progress is still progress). Now I know why they always said, “you need to open up more.” I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I forgot other people existed. I learned how to be sincerely happy and smile more. I used to feel so disgusted with myself for being fake, but now I know how to be kind and mean it. So yep, I owe this program a lot. 

Now here comes the plot twist. A bundle of joy was born in this world! I have a niece and surprise surprise I love her unconditionally. Lol I was never a big fan of babies. I had my fair share of anxiety when my sister was pregnant. WILL I LOVE THIS CHILD? I could only fake some smiles for so long. Snap snap snap I was wrong. Right then and there when I held her in my arms I knew I would give up my limbs for her if I had to. Well, not that dramatic but still. She’s only 5 weeks old but she has taught me more than my old brain could possibly handle. She taught me patience, love, understanding, and how to be selfless. I see my sister in a different view now. I have so much respect for her. It is so hard to be a mom. So fucking hard. I’d like to do a post about this someday.

2018 has been life changing. Probably the best year ever. I honestly don’t want to let this one go, but I have to. Here’s to 2019. I want to be irrevocably happy.
PS: I met someone ☺️

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Good news.

I’m suddenly surrounded by pregnant women & newborns. The bridesmaid periods are long gone. My social media feeds are filled with babies, USG, test packs -for fucks sake, low Q maternity shoots, thinly-veiled-attempt-to-show-off-that they’re-not-gaining-much-weight-during pregnancy-kind-of-pics…. I’m happy for them. I frickin am. They radiate warmth and happiness. They frickin glow. But I can’t shrug off the feeling of being left behind. When my little sister announced her pregnancy it’s all crumbling down; my happy-peaceful-content state of mind that I tried so hard to build and maintain. It’s the final blow of the good news I’m pregnant chain I’ve received these past few months. My first reaction was overwhelmingly happy. Imma be a real aunt! But then the fact sank in. People are moving forward with their lives. They walk down the normal timeline, do what most people are supposed to do, experience what normal people do in their respective age. For one second I thought fuck normal I have my own pace. But you can’t help but wonder about where you stand in the line. Will you ever get to be where they’re at? Will you experience that? Will you ever be normal? You get this uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach; am I doing the right thing with my life? Easy to say that getting married, having kids, building promising career are not a race, when you’re not the one falling behind. When you’re not the one who’s been on the bench for far too long. Rejected. Feeling like a total failure.

Good news is a double sided sword. You get to be happy for other people- giving you reassurance that despite all your crazy thoughts you’re still kind. But then it also double your insecurities- making you feel like you’re the most fake human being on the planet because you’re happy for them but secretly feeling miserable inside.

And the question remains

Are you truly a good person who’s waiting on your chance to shine or you’re just an insecure flop who can’t handle other people happiness?

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Is that really such a crime?

Life has been…. surprisingly good. Lord I don’t wanna jinx it but it’s fricken good. A month was all I need to settle in, take in the environment, work my pace. Then here I am. Enjoying every minute of waking up super early, the countless smiles I have to offer to countless patients in the clinics, up to the burning sensation in my wrists from writing down SOAP sheets in a hurry. I’m still anxious, still thinking about things down to the ridiculous detail, but the physical symptoms like tachycardia, hyperalertness, increasing bowel motility, difficultly sleeping are all getting better, if not gone. I used to mark each passing day on the calendar, never missed one. I couldn’t wait for this whole program to end; now it’s just sitting useless on the table, marker free, completely forgotten. Days just pass by. I’m utterly surprised. Is it because of repetitive exposure? Or is it me accepting the fact that this is what I have to do? My mind really is a funny place. 

But I’m happy. Content.

It’s only been 3 months but I feel like this little town has healed me. In a way that I can’t comprehend. I’m broken, with jagged edges, but this town manages to embrace me with it’s own warmth. Slowly I’m able to put myself back together, in my own pace. It’s small, quiet, with just enough amount of sight to see & places to visit. You don’t have to worry about getting caught up in a traffic. The living cost is super affordable. The people, oh the lovely people. Every Sunday I get to visit the CFD (car free day) and it’s heaven on earth. I take everything this little town has to offer. I’m in love. 

I smile a lot. I joke a lot. I laugh a lot. I eat a lot. I’m gaining few pounds but who the fuck cares. 

God, to think that it’s only temporary only triggers my already dialed down anxiety. But it’s the perks of living with anxiety. You get to think about things a million years before it even happens. You’re anticipating. Preparing for the worsest worst scenario. Creating problems that aren’t there. Oh well what’s new. But I can totally see myself living in here. Build a home. Maybe a family? 

God knows

X.