There are certain things in life we wanted to change and start all over again. If only it is possible. I’ve made thousands of mistakes, some I don’t regret, some I do. But there are mistakes that are irreversible, and those irreversible mistakes will be my burden for the rest of my existence.
Love. Is it real? Is it felt in the heart? Or is it just an emotion? I’ve felt love as an emotion so many times, but I felt love as pain for the longest time. I believe I fell in love only once for my twenty-three years of living, and I fell for the wrong person. A person, who I believe was destined for someone else, and when a person is destined and loves someone else, no matter how you try to work things out, you will just never be happy. There is a mixed feeling, you are happy to be with him but you ache every other moment. Then you ask yourself, ‘Will we be happier apart? Or will I ache more when we are apart?’ You wanted to try but you are afraid you can’t have him back once you let go. ‘What if his life goes on and mine won’t?’ These questions bothers you yet you are afraid to try things, so everyday you try to work it out and you always get the same result, and you wonder again how far would you go on.
There are times when you argue about things, and you argue all the time until you forget what you argued all about. You love to blame the other and the other hits you back then every conversation becomes pointless and a time will come when you don’t talk about anything anymore. He comes home to eat dinner, take a shower and go to bed. Little conversations like ‘How are the kids? Have they eaten enough?’ It hurts you because you can’t talk about anything else. You wanted to reach out to the other but you are afraid the other will just shut you off. You pity yourself and you keep wishing that tomorrow will be different, so you cry yourself to sleep.
When tomorrow starts all over again, the same shit happens, same painful day, you escape reality and lock yourself to your own world where no pain can touch you, where you get to play god. You have a world where you make things happen, where happy ending exists. Writing helps you a lot as an escape, but it doesn’t change the real situation.
You envy other couples because they are perfect for each other and you hate yourself because you are miserable. When you are miserable, you infect other people, then you hate almost everything. You pretend to be happy, you pretend to be perfect but the pain shows even more and you know you can’t fool anybody. You ask God why can’t you have something like they got, then it gets worst everyday and you want to end your life and hope it’s the end of everything, but before you cut yourself, a question pops in your head, ‘Soulmates, is it real? Or is it something someone invented so that death is something to look forward to, rather than feared?’ Then, another question comes up, ‘Who is my soulmate? Is it a person I love? Is it someone I’ve never met in real life?’
Now there’s a little hope, so you put the blade away. ‘Maybe, if I move on, someone better will come and will change everything in my life.’ If not, the blade is at safe place and you retrieve it, use it for an easy way out of all the miserable things that happened in your life and hope that hell doesn’t exist.
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