iSTORYA.NET - Blogs - xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/blog.php?43072-xxkatgorgeousxx en Sun, 17 May 2026 19:32:26 GMT vBulletin 300 https://www.istorya.net/forums/images/metro/blue/misc/rss.jpg iSTORYA.NET - Blogs - xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/blog.php?43072-xxkatgorgeousxx You Meant to Her More Than Anyone Else https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2862-You-Meant-to-Her-More-Than-Anyone-Else Wed, 10 May 2017 12:53:32 GMT She hates the term ‘almost relationship’ because it implies that you two weren’t close enough. That you almost meant something to each other. That you almost had something wonderful. But that’s not true at all. You meant the world to her. You were the person she thought about from the second her phone beeped in the morning until her head sunk into her pillow at night. You were the person that she told all of her friends about, the person that she replayed conversations with inside of her head. She waited for texts with your name on them. She dressed in her favorite outfits on the days she knew she’d be running into you. She rearranged her schedule to fit you into her life. She wanted to be with you and — even though it didn’t work out in the end — she knows there was a time when you wanted to be with her, too. She knows that you felt the same way, that she wasn’t imagining the spark that existed between you. There was something electric in the air whenever you locked eyes from across a crowded room, whenever you sat a little too close and your shoulders grazed, whenever you gathered the courage to touch her lips. Every time she thinks back on those moments, on all those times when you made a smile fill her face or a laugh escape her throat, she feels the same butterflies she did the first time. The memories are still fresh in her mind, torturing her. Even though it looks like she’s moved on, she still thinks about you all the time. She still wonders where it all went wrong and wonders whether there was something she could have done differently, something that would have ended in an official relationship. She hates that you’re not in contact anymore, that you’re strangers again. She misses you like mad, but she’s not sure what the correct protocol is for a situation like this. Does she text you casually, like she doesn’t have any questions about what happened? Does she confront you? Or does she squash the urge to let you back into her world and let herself move on? *She doesn’t know what to do, so she does nothing. She lets you live your life. She lets you go.* She realizes that what you two had was only an almost relationship, but it meant more to her than some of her actual relationships. She misses you more than any of her exes. *You may be long gone by now, but she hasn’t forgotten about you yet. And she’s not sure if she ever will.* She hates the term ‘almost relationship’ because it implies that you two weren’t close enough. That you almost meant something to each other. That you almost had something wonderful.

But that’s not true at all. You meant the world to her. You were the person she thought about from the second her phone beeped in the morning until her head sunk into her pillow at night.

You were the person that she told all of her friends about, the person that she replayed conversations with inside of her head. She waited for texts with your name on them. She dressed in her favorite outfits on the days she knew she’d be running into you. She rearranged her schedule to fit you into her life.

She wanted to be with you and — even though it didn’t work out in the end — she knows there was a time when you wanted to be with her, too. She knows that you felt the same way, that she wasn’t imagining the spark that existed between you.

There was something electric in the air whenever you locked eyes from across a crowded room, whenever you sat a little too close and your shoulders grazed, whenever you gathered the courage to touch her lips.

Every time she thinks back on those moments, on all those times when you made a smile fill her face or a laugh escape her throat, she feels the same butterflies she did the first time. The memories are still fresh in her mind, torturing her.

Even though it looks like she’s moved on, she still thinks about you all the time. She still wonders where it all went wrong and wonders whether there was something she could have done differently, something that would have ended in an official relationship.

She hates that you’re not in contact anymore, that you’re strangers again.

She misses you like mad, but she’s not sure what the correct protocol is for a situation like this. Does she text you casually, like she doesn’t have any questions about what happened? Does she confront you? Or does she squash the urge to let you back into her world and let herself move on?

She doesn’t know what to do, so she does nothing. She lets you live your life. She lets you go.

She realizes that what you two had was only an almost relationship, but it meant more to her than some of her actual relationships. She misses you more than any of her exes.

You may be long gone by now, but she hasn’t forgotten about you yet. And she’s not sure if she ever will. ]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2862-You-Meant-to-Her-More-Than-Anyone-Else Perfect https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2845-Perfect Thu, 02 Mar 2017 14:11:42 GMT
He said to me "You're perfect,
and I want you to be mine."
But I felt I wasn't worthy,
and to be perfect, I'll need time.

I knew it would be worth it,
I could be better if I tried,
then he got tired of waiting —
and I watched my chance go by.
]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2845-Perfect Angels https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2841-Angels Thu, 23 Feb 2017 03:21:40 GMT It happens like this. One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else ― closer to them than your closest family. Perhaps this person carries within them an angel ― one sent to you for some higher purpose; to teach you an important lesson or to keep you safe during a perilous time. What you must do is trust in them ― even if they come in hand in hand with pain or suffering ― the reason for their presence will become clear in due time.

Though here is a word of warning - you may grow to love this person but remember they are not yours to keep. Their purpose isn't to save you but to show you how to save yourself. And once this is fulfilled, the halo lifts and the angel leaves their body as the person exits your life. They will be a stranger to you once more.

.............................

"It's so dark right now, I can't see any light around me."
"That's because the light is coming from you. You can't see it but everyone else can."


- Lang Leav ]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2841-Angels Regrets https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2839-Regrets Sat, 18 Feb 2017 07:18:11 GMT Timing is irrelevant when two people are meant for each other. It's what I once believed.

But we met during a time when I was such a mess, when I still had so much to figure out. How could I have known how crucial every word, every action was or how losing you would be something I would always regret?

If only you could have met me now, how different it would be. How much I have changed. How I have grown. I learned so much from all the mistakes I made with you. I just wish I had made them with someone else. ]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2839-Regrets Patience https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2832-Patience Sat, 28 Jan 2017 01:59:55 GMT Patience and Love agreed to meet at a set time and place; beneath the twenty-third tree in the olive orchard. Patience arrived promptly and waited. She checked her watch every so often but still, there was no sign of Love.

Was it the twenty-third or the fifty-sixth? She wondered and decided to check, just in case. As she made her way over to the fifty-sixth tree, Love arrived at twenty-three, where Patience was noticeably absent.

Love waited and waited before deciding he must have the wrong tree and perhaps it was another where they were supposed to meet.

Meanwhile, Patience had arrived at the fifty-sixth tree, where Love was still nowhere to be seen.

Both begin to drift aimlessly around the olive orchard, almost meeting but never do.

Finally, Patience, who was feeling lost and resigned, found herself beneath the same tree where she began. She stood there for barely a minute when there was a tap on her shoulder.

It was Love.

"Where were you?" She asked. "I have been searching all my life."
"Stop looking for me," Love replied, "and I will find you."


- Lullabies, Lang Leav ]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2832-Patience When Love Arrives https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2817-When-Love-Arrives Sun, 18 Dec 2016 07:11:15 GMT *When Love Arrives * by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye I knew exactly what love looked like – in seventh grade. Even though I hadn’t met love yet, if love had wandered into my homeroom, I would’ve recognized him at first glance (love wore a hemp necklace). I would’ve recognized her at first glance (love wore a tight French braid). Love played acoustic guitar and knew all my favorite Beatles songs. Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me. And I knew, I just must be searching the wrong classrooms, just must be checking the wrong hallways, she was there, I was sure of it. (If only I could find him.) But when love finally showed up, she had a bow cut. He wore the same clothes every day for a week. Love hated the bus. Love didn’t know anything about The Beatles. Instead, every time I try to kiss love, our teeth got in the way. Love became the reason I lied to my parents. I’m going to...Ben’s house. Love had terrible rhythm on the dance floor, but made sure we never missed a slow song. Love waited by the phone because she knew if her father picked up it would be: “Hello? Hello? I guess they hung up.” And love grew, stretched like a trampoline. Love changed. Love disappeared, slowly, like baby teeth, losing parts of me I thought I needed. Love vanished like an amateur magician, and everyone could see the trapdoor but me. Like a flat tire, there were other places I planned on going, but my plans didn’t matter. Love stayed away for years, and when love finally reappeared, I barely recognized him. Love smelt different now, had darker eyes, a broader back. Love came with freckles I didn’t recognize. New birthmarks, a softer voice. Now there were new sleeping patterns, new favorite books. Love had songs that reminded him of someone else, songs love didn’t like to listen to. So did I. But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly. We found jokes that make us laugh. And now, love makes me fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies. But love will probably finish most of them for a midnight snack. Love looks great in lingerie but still likes to wear her retainer. Love is a terrible driver, but a great navigator. Love knows where she’s going, it just might take her two hours longer than she planned. Love is messier now, not as simple. Love uses the words “boobs” in front of my parents. Love chews too loud. Love leaves the cap off the toothpaste. Love uses smiley faces in her text messages. And turns out, love shits! But love also cries. And love will tell you you are beautiful and mean it, over and over again. “You are beautiful.” When you first wake up, “you are beautiful.” When you’ve just been crying, “you are beautiful.” When you don’t want to hear it, “you are beautiful.” When you don’t believe it, “you are beautiful.” When nobody else will tell you, “you are beautiful.” Love still thinks you are beautiful. But love is not perfect and will sometimes forget. When you need to hear it most, you are beautiful, do not forget this. Love is not who you were expecting, love is not who you can predict. Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep; You are in California, Australia, wide awake. Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone. Maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love. Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type. Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce, love is older now, but just as beautiful as you remembered. Maybe love is only there for a month. Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit. Maybe love stays. Maybe love can’t. Maybe love shouldn’t. Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to. And love leaves exactly when love must. When love arrives, say, “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.” If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her Turn off the music, listen to the quiet, whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”
When Love Arrives
by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye

I knew exactly what love looked like – in seventh grade.
Even though I hadn’t met love yet,
if love had wandered into my homeroom,
I would’ve recognized him at first glance (love wore a hemp necklace).
I would’ve recognized her at first glance (love wore a tight French braid).
Love played acoustic guitar and knew all my favorite Beatles songs.
Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me.
And I knew, I just must be searching the wrong classrooms,
just must be checking the wrong hallways, she was there,
I was sure of it. (If only I could find him.)
But when love finally showed up, she had a bow cut.
He wore the same clothes every day for a week.
Love hated the bus.
Love didn’t know anything about The Beatles.
Instead, every time I try to kiss love, our teeth got in the way.
Love became the reason I lied to my parents.
I’m going to...Ben’s house.
Love had terrible rhythm on the dance floor, but made sure we never missed a slow song.
Love waited by the phone because she knew if her father picked up it would be: “Hello? Hello? I guess they hung up.”

And love grew, stretched like a trampoline.
Love changed.
Love disappeared, slowly, like baby teeth, losing parts of me I thought I needed.
Love vanished like an amateur magician, and everyone could see the trapdoor but me.
Like a flat tire, there were other places I planned on going, but my plans didn’t matter.
Love stayed away for years,
and when love finally reappeared, I barely recognized him.
Love smelt different now, had darker eyes, a broader back.
Love came with freckles I didn’t recognize.
New birthmarks, a softer voice.
Now there were new sleeping patterns, new favorite books.
Love had songs that reminded him of someone else,
songs love didn’t like to listen to. So did I.
But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly.
We found jokes that make us laugh.
And now, love makes me fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies.
But love will probably finish most of them for a midnight snack.
Love looks great in lingerie but still likes to wear her retainer.
Love is a terrible driver, but a great navigator.
Love knows where she’s going, it just might take her two hours longer than she planned.
Love is messier now, not as simple.
Love uses the words “boobs” in front of my parents.
Love chews too loud.
Love leaves the cap off the toothpaste.
Love uses smiley faces in her text messages.
And turns out, love shits!

But love also cries.
And love will tell you you are beautiful and mean it, over and over again.
“You are beautiful.”
When you first wake up, “you are beautiful.”
When you’ve just been crying, “you are beautiful.”
When you don’t want to hear it, “you are beautiful.”
When you don’t believe it, “you are beautiful.”
When nobody else will tell you, “you are beautiful.”
Love still thinks you are beautiful.
But love is not perfect and will sometimes forget.
When you need to hear it most, you are beautiful, do not forget this.

Love is not who you were expecting,
love is not who you can predict.
Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep;
You are in California, Australia, wide awake.
Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone.
Maybe love is not ready for you.
Maybe you are not ready for love.
Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type.
Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce,
love is older now, but just as beautiful as you remembered.
Maybe love is only there for a month.
Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.
Maybe love stays.
Maybe love can’t.
Maybe love shouldn’t.

Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to.
And love leaves exactly when love must.
When love arrives, say, “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.”
If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her
Turn off the music, listen to the quiet, whisper,
“Thank you for stopping by.”
]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2817-When-Love-Arrives The One https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2814-The-One Mon, 12 Dec 2016 12:48:26 GMT I don't want you to love me because I'm good for you, because I say and do all the right things. Because I am everything you have been looking for.

I want to be the one you didn't see coming. The one who gets under your skin. Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed about love. Who makes you feel reckless and out of control. The one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to.

I don't want to be the one who tucks you into bed. I want to be the reason why you can't sleep at night.

- Lang Leav, The Universe of Us ]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2814-The-One But You Left. https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2791-But-You-Left Wed, 19 Oct 2016 04:20:30 GMT Maybe I wasn't good enough for you. Maybe the amount of happiness I shared with you couldn't fill the happiness that you need. Maybe I'm too shitty. Maybe I am not really the one you need but I was convenient that moment. Or maybe, I am really too sad for you to handle.

"I won't leave you," you said. I held onto that overly used phrase because I really hoped you wouldn't. That you'll stay and put up with all of my shit. I thought I can do everything because I have someone who won't leave me behind just like everyone else did.

But you left. ]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2791-But-You-Left Alin Ba Sa Dalawa? https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2789-Alin-Ba-Sa-Dalawa Tue, 18 Oct 2016 03:08:39 GMT Buong akala ko hindi darating sa punto na mahihirapan akong sagutin ang tanong na,

"Mahal mo pa ba siya?"

Magkahalong tawa at hiya.
Ano nga ba talaga ang dapat na isagot ko?

Naipit ako sa mga sagot na,

"Oo, mahal ko pa siya,"
at
"Syempre, hindi na."

Alam ko naman ang dapat marinig nila,
Para makita nilang wala na talaga,
Pero ang hirap palang sumagot ng "hindi na"
Kung alam mo sa sarili mo na meron pa.

Natatakot akong sumagot ng totoo,
Natatakot ako sa magiging reaksyon ng mga tao,
Natatakot akong muling masabihan na "ang tanga mo".
Dahil sa kabila ng lahat ng nangyari, heto ako,
Gustong sumagot ng "oo".

Habang isinusulat ko ito,
Naisip ko nalang na magpakatotoo.
Eh ano ngayon kung hindi pa ako nakamove on?
Hintay lang, darating din naman ang tamang panahon. ]]> xxkatgorgeousxx https://www.istorya.net/forums/entry.php?2789-Alin-Ba-Sa-Dalawa