The Incurable Romantic!

Courtesy: It's art time

Life isn't a movie. No matter how much we age there is that one hope that someday things will turn out all right after all the wrongs that you have struggled with and then one day you die in that hope. That's the sad thing about a broken heart, it cannot see beyond its own misery. The crash of your own heart is the loudest. The screams of your own soul are tumultuous. Nobody else's pain is ever greater than your own because you are living it. It's so doltish of you to keep hoping for that one hand to help you pick up the pieces. That's the horrid part of being broken, only you have to help yourself put everything back and while doing that you still keep hoping and waiting for that happy ending to happen. You know as you are growing up, you imagine a certain way how your life will be. With the kind of exposure you get and the kind of experiences that affect you, it sets a benchmark. Then reality happens. What do you then? Pain is a real struggle. No one ever gets how you cope. No one ever can. It's a sin these days to care for something or someone, it leads you to your own death. Isn't it sad that we live in a world where instead of teaching ourselves to love we have to teach ourselves to unlove people.

When you try to keep everything inside you one day the damn just breaks and then you cannot stop the tears from flowing. They fall just like they have been simmering on the insides of your eyes dying to see the light of day or the silence of the night. They just keep pouring unaware by who they fall for. Without cause, without reason, they fall. They try to free you but you try to run away from reality. A good bawl does have some cathartic value attached to it but does it make you feel any better? You take solace in alcohol for it helps numb the feelings for a little while, maybe. For some days, maybe before the dam is built again, the pressure rises again and the tears flow again. There are days when you are so angry that you can murder the entire world and then there are days when you realise how worthless their existence is to you. It's like when the fog lifts you see that person in their entirety, beyond the facade and you see all that they truly are, that's when you become numb because you finally have them naked in front you and not up on a pedestal.

I get so scared to write when I'm in this zone because words are hard to come by and I just keep soaking in the feeling of love dripping out of my heart. It feels so empty and I feel so hollow. It's like the space that they had taken up is slowly being vacated, truth by truth. And somewhere between all the heartache and adulting to withstand it, I grow up a little every single day!