Looking back at how I live my life,

Looking back on how I’ve lived my life, I never imagined I’d reach this point of realization. My life isn’t perfect, but I can honestly say that where I am now is far better than where I was before. I feel happier than I’ve ever been—or maybe I’ve just learned to appreciate life more in general.

A lot has changed, especially in how I see life. My perspective on what truly matters has shifted. The things I once thought I couldn’t live without now seem almost embarrassing to look back on. I’ve always considered myself a simple person, but now I appreciate the beauty of living simply even more.

Of course, I’m still struggling with certain aspects of my life, but I’ve become more positive—or perhaps just more realistic. I’ve learned the beauty of acceptance: if things go as planned, great! And if not, well, better luck next time—on to the next.

I understand myself so much better now. I’ve gained more clarity about what I truly like, what’s okay, and what’s not. It’s funny how the things I used to give so much attention to no longer seem important at all.

Amazing Seiji

So, I recently started working as an ESL tutor, and the guy in the picture was one of my students. Before our class, I was able to get a preview of him since previous teachers can leave comments, which are available for others to see. Reading through the evaluations, I was honestly a bit creeped out because every tutor seemed to say the same thing about him.

Apparently, he does the same routine every day, and it has been going on for the past two years. First, he shows pictures of flowers he says he took. Then, he shares pictures of his two-year-old granddaughter. After that, he meditates. Out of nowhere, he suddenly reads Chapter 29 from Anne of Green Gables, then meditates again. At some point, he plays Amazing Grace on his harmonica. And then… the cycle repeats.

I felt nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t want to rely too much on the previous teachers’ comments or judge the student before even meeting him. At the same time, I didn’t want to dismiss the teachers’ observations—they had every right to share their experiences.

And then, I finally met him.

They were right.

I didn’t know how to feel—I was conflicted. At first, I was both excited and nervous. But as our session went on, I found myself feeling both happy and sad at the same time. I struggled to put into words what I had just experienced.

I used to think that being a psychologist or psychiatrist might suit me. But after that encounter, I started to question myself. If I were to face a similar situation—or something even more bizarre —how capable would I really be?

Despite how excited he seemed about his routine, I just couldn’t share the same feeling. I was deeply anxious . There was something almost beautiful about seeing him in his own world, completely oblivious to reality. In a way, I even felt a bit envious of him. But at the same time, I couldn’t shake the sadness.

One thing is for sure, though—that experience made me reflect on a lot of things in my life.

I knew you're not the one.

I see it now.

I was just amazed at how blinded I was when we were together. Maybe a big part of me was naive because I never knew someone like you existed—that’s why I didn’t notice the red flags right away. I thought that if I was more understanding, if I tried harder, you might see it in yourself to change and become a better person. But I was wrong, of course. I didn’t realize it back then, but now I do—people like you will never change. Never. You might not even realize there is something wrong with you because you think you’re better than everyone else.

I can’t believe I wasted my tears on someone like you.

Yes, you succeeded in manipulating me, making me believe everything you said. But at least not for too long—just long enough for me to realize that what we had was never real. You just made me believe it was. And I’m so glad I’m over it now.

What were the signs?

Your silent treatment. Especially when we had different opinions about something—you’d either walk out and not talk for days or explode in anger. It felt like you were always looking for something to argue about. And you always had to win. In your delusional mind, you were always right. Even when it was clearly your fault, you’d dig up something from the past to use against me so you could get away with what you did. You would even twist my words until I found myself defending myself for things I didn’t even do. You always made me feel guilty just to manipulate me into doing what you wanted. You dismissed my feelings, made me feel like I was overreacting, and accused me of playing the victim—when in reality, you were the one doing just that. One minute we were okay, and the next, we weren’t. We were so different.

Your trust issues. Your paranoia. I still don’t understand where this ridiculous idea came from—that I was talking about you or exposing your bullshit to others. Seriously? Just f*cking annoying. No matter how many times I told you I wasn’t, you kept insisting I was. Like, why would I even do that? Gaaahd. And then you’d twist it back on me, claiming I was the paranoid one. See how scared you were for people to know what an asshole you really are? What a con man. You claimed you didn’t care what people thought about you, yet you were terrified of what I might say. And most of the time, I just let it go—because keeping the peace was easier. I don’t even know if we ever had a decent conversation without me feeling like I was walking on eggshells.

Your mood swings. Either you were blaming your ex for your behavior or telling me horrible stories about her—painting her as the villain so I would end up feeling sorry for you. You never took responsibility for your actions. It was always someone else’s fault. And the worst part? Whenever you were in a bad mood, you made me feel guilty—as if I should be miserable too. And if I wasn’t? You’d get mad. It was emotionally, mentally, and physically draining. But of course, you wouldn’t understand that. Because you don’t care. You never did.

Because for you, it was always about you.

Your wants.

Your needs.

You thought the world revolved around you.

Because you’re self-centered.

A narcissist.

A Mr. Know-It-All.

A manipulative coward.

I was naive, yes.

I thought I was in love.

I thought I was doing the right thing—because when you love someone, you fight for them, right?

I can’t believe I ever thought you were capable of love when you don’t even love yourself.

I was sad for a while, sure.

I even blamed myself for falling for your bullshit.

It was painful, overwhelming even.

But then I realized—you weren’t worth it.

And you never will be.

Leaving you was the best decision I ever made.

I danced with the devil and lived.

And because of that, I came out stronger. Smarter.

I realized my worth.

Thank you for that.

Ink, Paper, and Heartfelt Words

I will never get tired of rereading these letters. These are things I would never trade for anything. Call me sentimental or whatever—as if I care.🙄

I’ve always had trouble articulating my thoughts and soul into words, which is why I deeply appreciate and admire those who can. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with or about me; my heart feels overwhelmed.

Reading these letters always reminds me of the person I once was. It’s like looking into a mirror, but through someone else’s lens—just as it is for those who wrote to me. And despite how hard I may be on myself, I find comfort in knowing that there are people who appreciate me—and for that, I am grateful.

I was hoping you're worth it. (Edited)

When you first came into my life,

I honestly didn’t want to get involved with anyone.

I wasn’t even looking.

And I wasn’t even sure if I was capable of it (loving).

I was at that point in life where I thought,

Maybe I’m just meant to be alone.

No one to care for, just an unwanted person no one cares about.

Unfortunately, YOU came. (Ruining everything.)

All of a sudden, something changed.

Suddenly, I became hopeful. (Yup, it was your fault. Nahh, it was all me. But it’s better to blame you since you don’t care anyway.)

Like maybe I wasn’t really meant to be alone after all.

(I guess this was my blind spot—driven by the idea that I’m one of those girls who need saving, obviously influenced by the Prince Charming fantasy.)

I was well aware of the risk of letting you into my life.

(Pfffh, either I was blinded or completely manipulated by it.)

I thought about it a lot. (Maybe not really a lot.)

Was it worth it? (Clearly, not enough thinking was involved.)

I must admit, at first, I was reluctant and really afraid.

Afraid to show you my true self, my vulnerabilities, and my insecurities. (My poor innocence.)

Afraid that you’d hurt me, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.

But then, I guess I was impulsive, blinded, and soooo naïve about what I thought was love.

It seemed like nothing else mattered but you. (Shame on you.)

Finally, I had someone in my life. (Poor me.)

I was hoping you were worth it.

I really, really was.

Until… YOU WEREN’T. (YAY! Finally!)

We had a misunderstanding—like most relationships, I supposed. (Or so I thought was normal. Forgive me! How would I know? I was n-a-i-v-e.)

Until I felt like I no longer mattered to you. (How dare you!)

And I felt you drifting away… (Thank you!)

And suddenly, it seemed impossible to reach you. (Well done.)

I tried to hold on. (I shouldn’t have.)

But I realized—I’m only human. (Good job for realizing that.)

I got tired. (Nothing new—I’ve always been lazy anyway.)

I suddenly felt pathetic. (Saaad.)

So, I decided I was done. (YAAAS!)

I was more than willing to fight. (At the time. Unfortunately, yes.)

But then, I felt alone—like I was the only one who wanted it.

(Turns out, I really was the only one. My poor self.)

And so, once again… I was alone. (Tap, tap.)

However, I have no regrets.

I was happy (for some of it), and for me, that’s what made it worthwhile.

I was grateful for the quiet moments we shared, even if they were short-lived. (Not anymore, really.)

At times, I still think about you. (Again, my poor self.)

It wasn’t easy. I kept wondering what I could have said or done to make you stay. (Luckily, that didn’t last long.)

But, of course, it made no sense if I was the only one hoping. (Pure nonsense.)

Now, we’re just back to where we started—back to being strangers. (Which is where we should have stayed in the first place.)

Though I may still be hurting, though there’s a hole (don’t get any ideas, you perv) in my heart right now,

I know what we had is over. (Seriously, it shouldn’t have even started.)

I know I have to let go of your words and promises. (Not that they meant anything anyway. I was just a fool to believe them.)

Because I still have a heart to heal and a life to live.

So that I can make space for what’s to come.

It may take time—I don’t know how long.

But I know these tears will dry up soon,

these sleepless nights will end,

and this pain will only make me better and stronger. (Most definitely, it will!)

And one day, I’ll look back at all of this with a genuine smile.

Ugggh, thank God it’s over! (RELIEF!)