They say you can’t end up with your true love, well for most people if not all. True love or not life has a wicked way of tearing us apart from the ones we desire the most, and the crazy part is it used our own hyper-emotional state of heart to make us either excessively annoying or the other person extremely suspicious. On second thought, I guess it is not true love but rather a search for satisfaction in seeking sensual inspiration often in the least attractive, at least least attractive to the general population, ones.
Romance starts with a spark, that flames up in the depths of our heart and burns like wild fire. The commencement of a relationship is often the best part that never would be attained again in the future. The zenith of the conditional love created between two people is usually the dawn of it, before we get to know each other, before any complication crops, while we were blind and brave. The first step of an adventure is exciting, full of energy and little bumps and falls are easily skipped over and laughed off. The rough waves of a small tide are actually fun when it rocks the boat that we aboard the sea on. The sun is shining and there is not a speck of cloud in the sky.
But it is human to tire and exhaust. The first few winds become struggle. The next climb gets tougher, seemingly steeper and the blame game starts. The self-righteous soul is in control and it is but a bad master. For the decent few, insults of a few may be well tolerated but then it gets difficult even for the meek to endure all the way and all the time. Rather, it is impossible. And it doesn’t help to finally lose control of subsiding all the pent up anger and frustrations. Insult starts to fly with the wild wind, multi-directional and slapping across faces in the most indecent manner. Love, is not love at all, considering the way when such claim is easily clouded by anger, frustration, hurt, pride, ego, and the list goes on. A storm is inevitable, and the storm did come.
There is no say of civilization under the horrendous storm. All hands on deck, but every touchdown has a feedback that made it seem earlier moments look better. Fights after fights, each fight brewing more hurt and pain, each more hideous than the preceding ones. There is no way the ship can be of any help in such a storm, and so we abandon ship. But the storm does not easily go away, and every break-up does not immediately put an end to all the misery. The hurt goes on, as the storm kept on thrashing the sea, like it is about to disembowel it, if it should have any bowel that is. The pain lingers like the contractions of an expecting mother, it aches, it subsides, it aches again, each contraction goes harder, each pain hurts more. Melancholy drives you insane, like you might just lose your mind, and sometimes you do. Actions untold of, reasons uncalled for, stupid deeds with no explanation at all, more embarrassing moments, more hurt.
It is not for the heart to thrive in a storm or to be strikened by hurt all the time, it tires out. The fight for something thought of value dies if it does not give a favorable outcome. You can’t win all fights, very true; so sometimes the heart got to lose. There comes a time when everything that has been held dear is just a hopeless nothing, a useless, formless void that does not stand for anything. No more screams, no more cries, no more tries, just silence. All you want to do is sit quietly all by yourself and void yourself of anything that might even in the slightest manner creep into your thoughts. You feel drained, exhausted and completely empty. There is no good nor bad that is left in you. No news can strike you, there is no bad news that’s too bad, there is no good news that’s exciting. Anything and everything is a ‘whatever’.
In a way, nothing can hurt you anymore. The storm has died out, and the sea is as clear as ever. The clouds have parted and the sky is clearer than the sea that reflected it. Numbed, nothing can hurt you anymore because you really don’t care and it doesn’t really matter. What happen or will happen is not going to change anything nor is it going to bring anyone back. Indifferent, nothing can get your attention. The world is just a fancy materialization of dreams that does not really come true, just another false alarm, trickery and all lies. And with time, gentle breeze and soft tide, you just sail along and mindlessly aboard any ship that would pick you up.
The spark that became a wild fire dimmed down to that of a lighthouse, from lighthouse to a flaming torch, from torch to a candle. Candle flame flickers down to that of a matchstick, to ember and to darkness. A cold hard darkness that once used to be a wonderful glow of warmth and life, a
forest fire, a lighthouse.
I think I almost got the point why we can’t settle down with our true love. We get emotional, we get jealous, we get fussy and the list goes on. It is stressful, we hurt too much, like we are in a storm. But when we lose hope and the storm subsides, when nothing can hurt because we are numb, when nothing can attract us because we are not interested, that is when we are finally ready to settle down, our serenity.
12 May 2013