History Repeating Itself
I never thought that this would become like a monster. And I have long fought about it since the time it was invented. I feel like I’m not supposed to be known, like I’m a mistress even though I definitely am not. And just when things are getting cozier—at the moment it seems like it—it suddenly became so cold it hurts.
I must be crazy about fairytales, princes, happily ever after and what not that I instantly bang my head when things get bumpy. I think most of us believe that there are some things that are incorruptible, that even when we’re suffering, there’s always happiness that comes after it, that even though some people lie, others—especially the one you cared for—will not. And for some, it is true. But it isn’t for others. I suppose I wasn’t lucky this time.
When something like this happened before, I became irritated. Why keep things when you’re supposed to be OK, if not proud about it? But this time, I felt a twinge; no, not that much but still, enough to cause me half a day of disheartenment. It was laughable at first. But when you realize the gravity of it, you question things. And then you question the other good things that come with it. Why? I do not have any idea. I wanted to ask, but… It’s really a decision that has been made even before that matter came to life.
Most of us think that we can get over it. But this whole hoo-ha will only fade depending on one’s explanation when the right time comes… because I’m not getting anything as of the moment, really. And as long as this isn’t over, you will still question the sincerity. You tread carefully, hoping to bridge things again. But at the end of the day, you’ll still feel shit about. I will sure remember it once in a while because as much as I wanted to bury the hatchet, I can’t yet. And when things get down to that level, it’s like saying, you mustn’t tell a soul about any of it because who would believe you anyway? No one. It became an obvious way of saying, "I don't want to be associated with you." OUCH.
The hurt will go away, but the worst part was the disappointment that comes after all the pain. I guess we all have our skeletons to hide in our closets. Unfortunately, with all the things that has happened, it feels like I’m one damn skeleton to bury.
I must be crazy about fairytales, princes, happily ever after and what not that I instantly bang my head when things get bumpy. I think most of us believe that there are some things that are incorruptible, that even when we’re suffering, there’s always happiness that comes after it, that even though some people lie, others—especially the one you cared for—will not. And for some, it is true. But it isn’t for others. I suppose I wasn’t lucky this time.
When something like this happened before, I became irritated. Why keep things when you’re supposed to be OK, if not proud about it? But this time, I felt a twinge; no, not that much but still, enough to cause me half a day of disheartenment. It was laughable at first. But when you realize the gravity of it, you question things. And then you question the other good things that come with it. Why? I do not have any idea. I wanted to ask, but… It’s really a decision that has been made even before that matter came to life.
Most of us think that we can get over it. But this whole hoo-ha will only fade depending on one’s explanation when the right time comes… because I’m not getting anything as of the moment, really. And as long as this isn’t over, you will still question the sincerity. You tread carefully, hoping to bridge things again. But at the end of the day, you’ll still feel shit about. I will sure remember it once in a while because as much as I wanted to bury the hatchet, I can’t yet. And when things get down to that level, it’s like saying, you mustn’t tell a soul about any of it because who would believe you anyway? No one. It became an obvious way of saying, "I don't want to be associated with you." OUCH.
The hurt will go away, but the worst part was the disappointment that comes after all the pain. I guess we all have our skeletons to hide in our closets. Unfortunately, with all the things that has happened, it feels like I’m one damn skeleton to bury.
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