Life's Bittersweet Simplicities

Empty.

I’m not the kind of person who often feels the emotion of regret, yet it comes every now and then, and it hits me harder than a wave out at sea.

For some strange reason, I had always thought they were about different things. And then today – it finally dawned upon me. The truth is, this feeling has always been about the same thing; in different forms yet in essence, infinitely the same.

My pain, that nauseating ache – it was you and the time I could never get back.

And then those ringing words of warning the past 8.5 years come back to haunt me, as if in glee they sang.

I’m stretched thin. But you won’t even care.

And here I am back at square one, wondering why I never left.

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Over the Rails

For what seemed like the longest time, I found myself cripplingly afraid of heights. It made my knees weak, and my heart palpitate so hard, I sometimes found it hard to breathe.

Yet, for the past year or two, as I looked down from high places protected behind a solid and high enough barrier, I felt myself stare downwards, often tempted to just hoist myself over and let myself free fall down. The clearer the ground, and the harder the surface, the more I felt myself compelled to shut everyone out and just tip myself over and find out just what would happen if I really did climb over, close my eyes, take a deep breath, and just jump down.

The more this notion struct me, the more intrigued I’ve become.

I wonder if I’m depressed. But everyone else around me thinks that’s just silly; for what reason could I possibly feel depressed? The truth is, I don’t even know myself.

Maybe I’m just bored or maybe I’m suddenly an adrenaline junky, but things like rollercoasters and even a standard yoga handstand makes me sick to my stomach the moment I feel myself turned around.

But every time this happens, I can feel it call out. Each time stronger, and more tempting, I can’t help but wonder if one day I’ll be one of those mangled bodies laying there on the ground.

And then I wonder after,

Would you have cared more, if you had known what would have happened, each time I walked towards those rails.

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Heartbreaks

When the heart breaks, it breaks for many reasons. Sometimes we just never know when it’s going to happen. It could be something big, something trivial, something completely unexpected. Yet a heartbreak remains a heartbreak.

It isn’t always a person. Sometimes its just an expectation, or an unwanted situation. But it hurts in such a way, you lose all motivation. Days pass, time keeps moving, but there you are, left floating.

Some days you wake up with tears stinging your eyes, a feeling of confusion as to why you’re even still living. The living becomes a dream, one that holds no meaning.

Depression is a killer, laced with the arsenic that is your own. It feeds on heartbreaks that remain an open wound.

And here I am again.

In that pain and withdrawal, that is mine and only mine to feel.

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A Secret at はるにれの木

harunire

At any moment in time, there is a feeling of vulnerability that makes itself known.

Sometimes in weakness, sometimes in strength.

A lover’s embrace, littered in tears.

And a silence that wraps itself like a cocoon on each other’s lips.

A moment felt,

A moment made ours,

As the sky turned dark and the shadows came creeping.

I know what I felt, I know that gentle rhythm. The solidification of my emotions, I gave you my all, on that cold November evening.

It had been perfection. A transcendence that far exceeded any form of expectation.

A spell had been cast.

A secret shared.

It was only just us.

And a tree that was.

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Burnt Reins and The Beginning of Regret.

It is in that moment of weakness that you often realize how the words of warning from others have actually rung true. But it is also in that moment of weakness, you find escape an impossible thing to do. Not because it really is, but because the guilt of doing so will hurt not just you, but those you love dearly too.

As the years pass, the dull ache of sadness turns into something much worst. It grows into a fiery spite that burns itself into a constant reminder of whose decision and mistake it clearly is. Because in the end, it is nobody. Nobody that is, but myself.

I left my reins in the hands of another. Blinded by the belief that things would somehow get better and I would actually be content with having myself tamed. I was fine for a while. But all those sharp and often unnecessary constraints have clearly left their marks. The scars don’t show physically but they burn with a relentless throb.

Now I often question my choice.

Would I be much happier if I had just walked out of that stable and never turned back.

 

 

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