Saturday, January 20, 2018

Without looking back

You say you know my pain, but there's no chance you've been in my tears. They dried too quickly to become something that matter. They were gone as my weakness even before they could become my courage. 

You say you know my broken heart, but there's no chance you've been the million pieces, ugly and crooked bits, bleeding out like rain. You must become the broken pieces for you to know how it feels like to be incomplete and lost. The shattered parts try to be sharp, harsh and hurtful. They try to make you bleed until you become someone as hateful as the hated. They push away everyone who attempts to help them heal. But it was only a front, a defense mechanism. They thought they must be brutal to survive. They thought they needed to do everything alone to become proud. Everybody else knows it's a weakness to be broken. Only few realizes it can also be a great source of strength. What a pathetic show.

You say you remember what it's like to love like we did. I wonder what kind of love lasts that long. Everyone forgets, but some does remember, I guess. A few unlucky souls remember why and how love has become and why it no longer is. It's a gift and a curse. I always wanted us to be nothing more than fading memories, taken away by the wind, along with rotten leaves abandoned by the trees. Still knowing is tragic, not remembering would be less sad. Gone before it even happened. Oh well. Some memories you cannot run away from.

You say you know I can get over this heartbreak because I've always been strong and determined. You say I just need to breath in and out until my heart has calmed enough to start moving on. I'm almost out of breath but I'm still stuck. You forgot to tell me how long I should keep trying. Or maybe you're wrong. Maybe I should not try to forget to be able to move on. Sometimes, you can only remain strong when you know the reasons you used to be weak. 

It's so hard to cope up. I say "Hey, let's not overthink this. We are or we are not." 

It's always too late when we come to realize that we cannot cover the sky with only two hands.

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