I give up on people a lot.
If I don't see or hear from you, my heart for you slowly dies and I detach myself from you. I give up on you. I do not know why I do that. I don't even plan on it. It just happens.
I get resentful, too. I get all these mad accusations inside my head about how petty you have become and I get petty, too. And I indulge myself to some self pity and I stay there until something better catches my attention or some fond memory jolts me back to my senses.
And then I love you again. And then, you are ethereal again and I could almost worship you. When the tide of every memory comes rushing back in, it sometimes become so overwhelming, I would find myself drowning. But it is a good thing, no?
Loving you again.
Most of the times, you make me happy to love you again. But sometimes, you fail me. I would look around for you and never find you. And in the eve of the flood of love, I die again. These kind of deaths are painful. These kind of deaths are the hardest to forget. Even forgive. These kind of deaths amplifies the emotion that made me give up on you in the first place.
I loved you and you were never there to love me back.
And so this time, I lose you.
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I don't want to see you. The fact that you are insensitive just clashes with my hyper sensitivity. I still sometimes get the blues trying to understand how we could be so different from each other when there is the unspoken language that only both of us understand to bind us. I still don't get it. And on some honest jaded days, I get to contemplate that maybe I won't ever will. Just as you won't ever understand why nothing is ever good enough for you.
What am I to you?
I simply refuse to believe that one would just forget about the existence of something supposedly important in one's life and then after a gulf of oblivion, one suddenly remembers. What do you want from me, this time? I cannot bleed for your wounds and be discarded like trash the moment you feel better. Time and time again. I'm sorry but unlike you, I have trouble getting over something I've invested my heart into.
So. no. Don't come. I don't want to see you. Live your life now like I am living mine. I am happy for you and I truly hope you will find contentment this time. Don't go running after the wind hoping to come to a full stop.
I hate you for making me wish that it was I who made the difference.
How do you comfort someone who is going through pain you can only dare to imagine? How do you answer questions you yourself have asked for a lifetime? How do you make someone understand a logic braced by faith when logic alone doesn't make sense? How can you shelter a heart that's selflessly dying to save others from pain?
There are times when the mind and the heart goes hand in hand. But when circumstances dives to extreme and the heart drops to the abyss of grief, the mind tries to make sense of what is mad and in attempt to hold reason together, it snaps and you'd be amazed at how fast a human's defense mechanism takes over. Overnight, a new man emerges and you gasp in blatant disbelief on how both extreme personalities could possibly co-exist in one body.
I know he's still in there. Deep down, probably tired and weary, resting along with the questions that deafens and are left unanswered. I believe that with enough patience, prayers and constant love, I will get to see the blessed day he'll come back again.
When words of comfort and promises of understanding and love fall to deaf ears, what do you do? When nothing is good enough and things doesn't make sense, how will you live? When madness reigns, turning friends to enemies, sending paranoia to hunt you down, how do you go back to who you once were?
How do you forget a memory too big a milestone, it killed everything that's good? How do you start being a person after the soul's died? How do you suppose to know love after love's fled away.
What's left is a hallow and tired shell of a tragic yesterday. The broken and dry image of what once was is a bitter reflection of how dreams are when they die. Blind and senseless eyes stare back in mocking desperation. Perhaps, a remembrance of a distant longing of a distant life.
I know I am a very impatient person and that I tend to leap into my concocted what ifs years away from today while being utterly disgruntled in the here and now. *sighs*
I am frustrated at how things seem to not work the way I planned them to. The way I hoped them to. My heart is broken. I am mad at myself for being not good enough.
Am I settling?
I am afraid and I am tired. There are days when I feel so much pain and frustration I end up numb. Doesn't matter if I fall down - give me your best shot. It couldn't get any worse than this.
I noticed this rather odd thing about myself when dealing with myself. I observed, I tend to talk in circles and nerve wrecking mazes when I talk to myself.
Yes, I talk to myself. Everybody does. What?! You don't? You freak. What? People don't talk to themselves? Pish. Normal is boring, anyway.
Where was I? Oh, yes! Circles and mazes. How lovely.
No, really. See what I mean? I ramble in incoherent loops that I never figure out in the end. I ask questions I know the honest-to-goodness answers to and yet I deny them blindly.
I feel like I am dreaming that I'm in a dream. The dream I dream I'm dreaming (get it? Hah!) isn't exacly a dream but rather, a nightmare in a way that I couldn't seem to wake up from it where I'm totally helpless and frustrated.
I can't feel my legs and arms. I am currently emotionally depleted.
