079- The Addicts' Wife

Some people say addiction is a disease; others say it’s a weakness, I say it’s both. It’s a disease that engulfs the person with a terrible weakness.  It’s a disease with just one cure and that’s support.
 
My name is Zeyba and I am a recovering addicts’ wife.

My husband is loving, he’s caring and at times like a prince from a fairytale. He’s also a lot of other things.  But that’s okay coz I made a pledge and I’d stand by him every rough patch on this road. Support, remember that’s the cure.

In a lot of ways my life and his are quite the same. We were both victims to a countless misfortunes as just little kids. The only difference was the paths that we took to deal with the pain. But somewhere along the way we both stopped thinking of ourselves as victims and rather reminded each other that our past was what made us stronger, better.

Mistakes were something that was a huge part of our lives, but somewhere along the way we taught each other to not let the mistakes control our lives. Instead it was what drove us to fight to be better, happier people. And even through the worst of times, our dreams never wavered. We dreamed, and in every one of those dreams we were together, happy.

And when we were together, it was magic. It is magic. Our love restored a faith in our hearts. Faith in the existence of a god. The same God that put us through a countless tests only to will our hearts to find each other. The God that willed us to heal our broken hearts with a love that never changed through the years.

I remember days when we had just started dating. I remember days when he fed me with his own hands every time we had a meal together. And I remember the times my heart raced every time he smiled. I remember the goose bumps all over my skin with just one kiss. And it takes all my pain away to know that even today he’d feed me with his hands. Even today, a smile and my heart races. Even today, one kiss and goose bumps cover every inch of my skin.

Don’t get me wrong, things aren’t always rainbows and butterflies. Things can be lightning storms and thunders from time to time. He’ll get on my nerves, he’d say hurtful things but patience can only solve the problems that come between us. I get angry so many times, but I always remember to calm down before I talk to him. And I learnt this with a thousand mistakes.

A thousand tears were shed in those times that he fought to be sober. His body weakened, his eyes hallucinating- It broke my heart. His hands pleading in front of me for the pain to go away. It cracked my faith but it never broke. I held on to the hope coz I knew I could never give up on him. I knew eventually this would be worth all of my tears and his. 

Today I am proud to say that I stand beside the man that I believed he could be 15 years ago. I stand beside a transformed man. It’s as though he was never the helpless person that I met so long ago. He’s my husband, father to my child and owner of a happy house that we like to call home.

But the road up to this point was heart. Every step of the way my patience was put to test. But I stuck around coz I wasn’t the only one changing or healing him, he changed and healed me too. And one thing that I’ll have to believe that any second my life could take a turn to the bad side. Relapsing is something I have to believe is not too far from us. But thats okay coz I’ll stand by him through thick and thin. I'll never let him fall.

Support, remember that’s the cure.

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People make mistakes. Sometimes some people make bigger mistakes than others, that however does not mean that they couldn't change. Every addict has a right to have a supportive environment. Every addict has a right to be given a chance to prove themselves. And we should believe in our hearts that change does not happen over night. It takes time. 

Support is what I believe will eliminate addiction from our society.

072- Gellifa. [A Dhivehi Short Story,]

[Picture borrowed from http://kingdomheartsaxelluv.deviantart.com/art/A-Face-In-The-Dark-163834749]

Hayaathuge ethah dhuvaheh heydhavee amilla nafsah olhuvaalumehge thereygaey. Kuda kuda mausoom kujjakun furaa furihama vi anhen kujjakah vegen dhiya iru, eynaa mulhinves dhuvasthah beykaaru kuree olhuvaalumehge thereygaey. Hithuga foruvaigen huri ethah haas sihreh hingamun e ai maguge vaki hisaabakun khudhu eynaa ah ves foruvi nimijje ey. Eynaage zameeru bodu fottehge emme adi ah laa thalhulevunu fadha ey. E zameeru dhuvahakuves dhirigen annane kamuge ummeedheh eyru eynaa akah nukureve ey.

Eyna ge hayaathuge emme bana dhuvas thah ai iru, kaireega in hama ekani meehaage foni bas thah miyadhu ves hithuga hanjarakun kandaa negifa vaa kahala ey. Kurin nukurevey ethah ihusaaseh edhuhu eynage hithaa sikundeega dhauru vamun dhiya ey. Eynage nafsah foruvifaivi sirruthah edhuvahu madu madun vinuvemun aey. Bodu fosheegai bandhu vefaivi zameeru minivanvumah edhi govan feshi kahala ey. Hithuge emme adeegai vi udhaas thakaa biruthah angain beyru vee iru ehithah lui kameh ihsaas vi ey. Bey ikhthiyaarugai namaves e foni bas thakuge veriya ah eyna ge hiy hiba kurevijje thaa ey. Hithuga hatharu faarugai umeedhu thakaa huvafen thakuge kula levunee thaa ey.

Huvafen thah dheken feshi iru hithugai vi udhaas thakah nimumeh ai hen heevi ey. Eyna ge hithugai ithuru veyn thakeh libeyney kan eyru eynaa akah nuvisne ey. Ethah dhuvaheh vandhen eynage nafsah kanthah thakeh foruvi kamugai viyas, hevaa nubai eyna ah olhifai vee madhu faharegga ey. Eyna ah kutthakeh kurevifai vee namaves kushuge bodu kamun mayoos vaan jehey varu kameh eyna ah kurevifa eh nuve ey. Namaves edhuvahu e foni basthakuge ithubaaru eynage visnumah vure eyna ah muhimmu vee thaa ey. E dhuvahu anehkaaves eyna ah eynage nafsu gellunu kahalaey.

Miyadhu mayoosee ge aalamugai eyna karuna elhi kamugai viyas e foni bas thah alun iveyney hey? Eynage nafsa eku edhuvahu eyna ah gellunu hithaa sikundi alun libeyney hey? Nethas mi dhuniyeyn ufaleh miyadhu, maaf akhiruga libeyney hey?

058- Not Every Story Has a Happy Ending.

It was an early morning in the middle of February, when a feeble thread ran a few thousand miles to connect our hearts in this confused road. Even though that this was going to prove to be an even darker abyss that I was falling than I ever imagined possible, I remember a feeling of... well, I was feeling good.

Ever since that first hello, I had my heart racing at every word we exchanged. And with every word we exchanged, I was sure I wanted to know more. Now I will be honest, there came a point when I thought I didn't want to know you anymore. Partly because I was fed up of trying to 'save' people, another part was that I was completely and utterly afraid. So when my heart started flying away from the sanctuary of a scarred chest, I aimed to fight yet ended up surrendering instead.

I know it might have been a poor choice to trust you completely with all of myself, but I did because I was sure that ahead we had a brighter path. Bright it was only for a while. Soon after, dark days came and passed me by only to return after a while. Dark days beat me until I was numb, but honey I swear I never gave up. Things looked bleak even in the light of our love. Was I to have turned a blind eye on it all?

Nights that my mind wandered, I lay in my bed wondering. What makes this any different than the ones before? What was it that made this stand out? And even after half a year of trying to figure it out, I am still not sure. The only thing that came even slightly closer to an answer was that, your intentions were good. Despite all that took place in between that moment of clarity to the moment of utter confusion,  I guess I held on all these while because I was so sure of those three words that so often you whispered in my ears.

I forgave and forgave every mistake that you made. I forgave every hurtful word that came out of your mouth. I saw that you were straying even when you stayed on this path. I saw all of you yet I chose to be blind. I waited a long time with my arms outstretched. I waited a long time hoping you'd let me save you. 

There came a point when doubts took over every square inch of my mind. And because of those doubts I left and left again only to end up back in front of your door. But I can honestly say that the thought of you never left my mind. You must have thought that I didn't care, but it was because I cared that I left so many times. I've always wanted what was best for you. And I am truly sorry I could never prove that to you.

And I've loved you like I've never dared to love before. And I've trusted you enough to show parts of me that I had kept hidden a million years. And I've hoped like I've never known heartbreak before.. yet I sit here wondering.. What good is a love that doesn't give you hope? What good is a trust that doesn't teach you trust? What good is a hope that will shatter in the end? What good is it all, if in the end it all holds no meaning in your eyes?

What difference does it make, if you end up damned anyways?

055- In Another Universe.

I ran into my Daddy’s arms as he walked in from work. I pull his tie with my tiny hands. I am three years old and I am a happy little girl. Daddy holds my hand while he asks about my day and I answer  him with a bubbly voice while I stare at him with my innocent eyes.  We find my Mom sitting in our rocking chair and she smiles at Daddy as we walk towards her. Daddy places his hand on my Mom’s head and kisses her hair lovingly. I smile a broad smile while I climb on her lap. A happy family, that’s what we are.

I am six years old. I sit by a little table with paint and colours all over my hands and dress. I am painting pictures of flying birds, of happy little families. I run around the house searching for my mother. I show her my painting, she marvels at my talent. Such happy thoughts, such inspirational art. And I hug my Mom tight. Carefree I am.

I have graduated high school. I smile down at my parents while I received my certificate. I am sixteen now, my eyes filled with dreams.  My Mom and Dad hug me, their eyes full of happy tears. Dad has gotten me a spot in one of the best art schools. My future is bright. I am gonna live my dreams.

I am eighteen years old. It’s a huge birthday party. My parents celebrate every year, yet somehow this year seems more defined. I am having fun. I am ecstatic. A room full of people, a house full of people who loves me.  And across the room, I see a boy. He sits by a table and stares at me. Perhaps it is love at first sight. And I realize, I am in love.

Considering I didn’t know how it happened, it DID happen with the perfect person. He’s hardworking he’s loving and he’s responsible. I know he’ll take good care of me. I wont have a single worry on my mind. In a long white dress I stand in front of him. I am his forever. Until death do us part. This is it, this is my happy ending

Suddenly I wake, I am covered in sweat. I hear feet dragging on the floor. He’s home now, my father, and drunk like hell. And there sits my mother swallowing sobs inside of her. I sit inside my room, where I lose my mind. And my life flashes before my eyes. A drunken father, depressed mother and fourteen years of being abused in more ways than one.  I look at the walls with my paintings. I stare at those walls covered with blacks and reds of my life. And I sigh as I think of what could have been. What could have been, had it been in another Universe.

051- Letters to My Bestfriend [Post 049 Continued.]

Dear Emily,
I sit here by the computer with no light surrounding me except the light from my screen. I sat here reading and re-reading the letter I wrote to you a year ago on this very day. Yes, it has been 1 year and six days since you left. And quite a year it has been.

After my endless attempts at sabotaging my whole life by not going to school and after I went deaf and dumb, my family finally forced me enough to get a grip. To be honest, it wasn't even them. It was the thought that you would be crushed if you knew I had become that person. The person who stops living after one bump along the way. I didn't want to be that person.

I pulled myself together, I started going to school. I studied hard, I pulled up my grades and I even started eating dinner with everyone Mom and Dad. Mom keeps telling me I should make new friends, and so I started hanging out with our old gang. But it still isn't the same without you. Jenny and Martha keeps treating me as though I am a charity case. And that pisses the hell out of me. But I cant even say anything to get out of their endless pity parties.

And here I am today after a year, still standing straight. But I wonder Em, I wonder if I am REALLY living. It feels like ever since you died, I died WITH you. I feel like a lifeless being walking around doing what everyone wants me to do. Smiling and faking every day of my life. And I can't help but wonder what you would say, if you had been here.

I still miss you everyday and I still feel stuck. The only difference is that I can fake it now. I can fake the hell out of it.

Love,
Kate.

043- Bruised and Battered.

[Picture borrowed from ladyxaniver.deviantart.com]

A while back she met a wonderful person. Silent and reserved, often misjudged. Labelled and criticized over and over again until he started believing himself that those things were what he really was. Yet he was none of those. She knew that. When she looked into his eyes, she saw a compassionate and caring man. A child bruised with a broken home, a boy scarred by his mistakes and a man desperately wanting to find his way along a path of thorns and nails. She had never seen a man who could love so much. And it was probably the best feeling she could ever have. To be loved, by HIM. 

It took everything he had to let her in. It took all of his strength to open a box that had laid shut in the depths of his soul. A peek, a look, was all she got though. And not because he couldn't trust her with it all. Only because he was scared. Scared like the little boy that he used to be. Of being alone, of having to lose something he loved more than everything else in the world because of what she might find inside the box. He loved her, he did. She never doubted it.

On the other hand, she was just as bruised and as scarred as he was. While he shut his soul in a battered old box, she had lived building walls around herself all her life. To have someone bring those walls down, may it have been even for a second was too much. It overwhelmed her. It tore a bit of her to stand naked in front of his eyes. Her bare soul for him to see with all of her flaws, her mistakes and the facade finally lifted. It was liberating yet at the same time she felt vulnerable and fragile to have let him see all of her. Everything.

Truth be told, they were both a mess. Yes, she wanted to help him get through. And he did too. But eventually it just became too much. They were just not ready. He couldn't keep piling her problems over millions of his that already lay in a heap in the corners of his mind. And she couldn't deal with the fact that they both needed some time to fix themselves. Coz no matter how hard they tried to fix each other, it was nearly impossible. They had to do it on their own. Away from each other. Would they have had a happily ever after, had they been emotionally ready for each other? Yes, probably.  But mistakes were made. On his side and hers.


He let her face a lot on her own, left her side when she needed him the most. And she just couldn't deal with the fact that he HAD to take a break. He had to fix himself. And by the time they realized their mistakes, it was a bit too late. Even though he never meant to, he HAD hurt her in so many ways. And even though she never meant the words she said at the very end, the words were out of her mouth. Like the tick of a clock that represents time. Like that time that's lost, words once spoken can never be taken back. And so she mourns,and grieves over her loss. She hides from the world that she fails to recognize now. She fails recognize her own self. She drowns in her remorse as she sits under the willow tree where they first met. And somewhere in a lonely bed he clutches her picture to his chest as he drenches his senses with his only friend.

028- Time [A piece of a Story]

I am walking in an open field. You're walking right here beside me. The grass sways tall around our bodies, the sky shining a baby blue. You hold my hand, oh so tight. I smile up at you as we stop. Your hands encircle my tingling frame, you stare right into my hurting soul. You see the pain I hide behind my pretend smile. You're the one who sees it all.

You lower your face and kiss my cheek, you then whisper a single word. The word that breaks my heart so much, and yet I smile so you wont see. A word that tears our lives apart, and kills me just to hear. You know how much this is hurting me, coz you're the one who sees it all. I question, why you're walking away. Why, when you know everything could burn and fall in this very second. Why, you take those steps away, when you clearly know I can't exist with that one word.

I'll give you what you need now. I'll smile and laugh while you break me. But all I know when this is over, you wont get me back. The me that I am to you now. You'll lose me somewhere along the process. I'll still be here, a ghost of me. The one that can't feel at all.

Why did it break me when you whispered, "Time"