It’s been months. And still the same. Unresolved. Unsolicited. Unrequited. It’s been awhile. And I thought I got over. But in just a matter of days, all the long, deserted months had been undermined. Poor me, I lose out of control. Now, I am torn, again.
The more I try to avoid it, the more it keeps me haunting. Each day, I wake up with a hope that I shall face a new phase in my life. But each day, I always stumble and fall. Things just turned out the way I hate them to be. I cannot seem to believe it because I should not believe it – the false picture, the one that I am escaping every single day. Yet it remained a hope, and on the other side, an illusion.
Things are just not so easy for me. They seem perfectly tolerable but seeing it in a longer term is not just bearable. I endure it at every start of the day, but before the day ends, I see myself in the beak of this unwanted feeling, such a feeling I hate to confess, insecurities, perhaps.
Heavens forbid, why I am soak with this I do not know. Uninvited, disconcerting, odd, I just don’t like this piece. It leaves me with the blank yet blurred image of discomfort…and it pains me deep down. No one knows about this exactly because I face them with a mask, a deceiving image even I myself is caught in this trap that I can no longer linger to what the real is from pure delusion. Contrasting thoughts wrestle in my mind the other side of it telling the complete opposite with that of the other verse. This guilt, if it is, is quite disturbing and misleading because even my most sincere thoughts don’t meet. And the more I push myself to let these conflicting ideas meet, the more I inflict pain to my inner self, the more I feel remorse for myself, the more I pity myself. And it should not be. Why should I do that, pity myself? But if I wouldn’t, then I might not be able to match all the broken pieces of my puzzle back. And I can no longer sort the right features from the unwanted ones.
So what now? Am I just a big fake with this pretentious identity that I try to show to all and to myself? What keeps me reserve on showing the “real” me, I also do not know. As I’ve said it, I do not even know what’s white from black. Can I just choose the gray area and just be there? I should pain no more. I should be on-guarded especially in the times that I am weak and exhausted, in times that I feel fed up and wasted. I should love myself not pity it. I should calm myself so I could listen to the cries of my thoughts. I should. I tried, but I failed, I fell.
I thought I can alter my life just very instantly. But I was wrong. I am wrong. Of when I shall stop this unrequited sentiment, I don’t know. Maybe, we should talk. To keep me in peace.