Manvitha's Musings

   Everyone can talk about loss. Everyone can talk about sadness. Yet somehow, no one talks about the feelings that are too big for words. The feelings that are too heavy to put on a page. The fingers that tremble with uncertainty. The hands stained with ink. The heart that doesn't know where to go next. So it stays. It stays in the current moment and chooses to hold on to every word, every spark of passion, every trail of thought like it's a fragile hope resisting being trampled by the darkness. And the funny thing is, that heart was the same one that was called the most adventurous, the brightest, always full of joy, always full of love, always waiting for the next goal to achieve. Yet ambition can crush someone sometimes, even if it's meaningful and passionate. It's like holding on to a rope so tightly just for it to snap in the end. It's like being tangled within the very depths of your soul. So you hold on to everything even when it hurts. You try to make the m...

    Hi guys! Manvitha here.  What is this blog about? To be honest, I don't really know. This morning, I woke up. I remember opening my journal and making this huge to-do list of things to do. I wanted to be productive today, I wanted to crush the day, I wanted to conquer the day, I just wanted to feel happy again. So that's what I did in the morning. I did some productive stuff, I filmed a few videos. But now, here I am. Writing this blog instead of doing more of my goals. I don't why but there used to be things that used to make me happy but now, doing them doesn't really feel the same anymore. Life doesn't really feel the same anymore. There used to be things that filled you with so much joy, they used to hold so much emotional weight, they used to make everything feel so meaningful, so worth it. But now those things don't really give me that much joy. And I realized that life isn't perfect. It's messy. Somedays it's hard to just wakeup and get ou...

  A teenage girl stands up and questions unfair rules. And everyone thinks, "Wow, she's so confident." But no one sees the days when she wasn't. A college wakes up at 5 am in the morning and goes for a run. And everyone thinks, "Wow, she runs really fast." But no one sees the days when she couldn't. A tree starts with a seed. A fire starts with a spark. And it doesn't come easy, sweetheart. But that's ok. The next time you see someone who seems to have it all together, just think of how broken they were before they joined the puzzle pieces together. Not to shrink or point out flaws, but to realize that everyone is human. And being human means that you sometimes have to start from zero. You know, plant a seed. So accept that fact and watch that seed grow into a big, beautiful tree. 

This is about a girl. Not just any girl. A very ambitious one who has goals, studies for exams, writes poems, has hobbies, works on projects, laughs with friends and family, and usually is the one to light up the room. Except that no one sees the days when she’s tired, she’s incapable of shining anymore and she needs a break from being everybody’s light when she herself is filled with darkness inside. She looks fine, in fact happy and energized when she laughs to jokes in class, runs around in the school ground, asks a question. And she indeed is fine, working on her goals after going home, being productive, making the most of her day.  So it’s just another average Tuesday. She is prepared to walk home by herself after school and start studying, filling pages, accomplishing, doing, just… working . She starts to walk home normally, bag clutched firmly on her back, wind behind the trees whipping little strands of hair in her eyes. She halts her walk and moves her finger delicately to...

Maybe the key wasn't hating you. Maybe the key wasn't crafting the perfect goodbye. Maybe the key wasn't sniffling under the desk just to feel worthy. Because you know what? This grief shows that it wasn't a lie. It wasn't a pretty promise. It was small, it was warm, it was comforting and it meant something. Grieving a meaningful friendship is better than grieving a bunch of betrayal and hurt. Because even if it hits harder, even if it hurts deeper, the little thought that it meant something all makes it feel worth it. I feel alive again. And maybe I don't hate it that much. We're not two people who ruined each other, but two people who gifted each other with nothing more than a good, unique friendship. But good doesn't mean perfect. Good doesn't mean flawless. So life got in the way, and the circumstances are too harsh. That's the only thing that seperates us, because we're no longer two people who ruined each other, but two friends who real...

  I keep telling myself it was a mistake, a devil in disguise, something that should have never even happened. I try to give myself closure by trying to despise you for not giving more or reaching out. Not because I expected something of the sort from you, but because I know how hurt and angry you feel from that look in your eyes that fills mine with sympathy. I know that I'm not the only one carrying this whole thing. You keep being kept in the dark, bombarded with the weight of words, and then pushed away. I know how hurt you are, and I can't help but care. Care for you. How you're doing. Whether you're ok or not. And that's why I trained myself to despise you, to hate you, to treat it all like a mistake, like it was never meant to be. Because hating you makes moving on easier. Simpler. Less crushing and heavy and suffocating and sad. But it still hurts to see you cry. I still wish I could reach out. I still wish we could just talk things through, fix it, go back ...