Today was one of the days I felt deeply hurt. More than the mood swing; a simple banter could really hurt, especially when coming from someone who, by the rule, should be the last one who would cause you pain.
I’m trying to make sense of things as I know how lonely it can get for someone to be out there somewhere, struggling alone, away from home. Maybe it gets too lonely that sometimes, it hurts already; it hurts seeing people happy. Seeing the people you love happy–moreso, it hurts to see their world go on as usual without you. It hurts when you know you are missing and yet the people you miss seem not to miss you at all. It hurts a lot that the hurt becomes a host of insecurity…slowly spreading into the heart then the brain hemisphere and causes you to say something…something random, unintentional, yet hurtful.
I was one of the prey. A perfect prey for uninentionally hurtful tactless remarks. The ever tactful, sensitive me- who can tolerate a but clueless as to when patience will snap. A lethal cocktail of personality. And I was the ever, eternal victim…and I never learned, I never knew how to adjust. And so when the damage was done (err…spoken), I resorted to nothing but questioning myself and faith all over again…just when I have put my self in place and started to find the balance again. Decades of conditioning myself to embracing what may lie ahead has become a million-dollar ugly question again: what could be wrong? Then a reinstatement: Something must be really wrong. Then a reiteration. Yes. There IS something wrong. Immediately, the walls start to break down mostly in the following order: Confidence, self- esteem, love for self (and I am not talking about selfishness); until my emotions are stripped raw in the palm of Goliath, ready to be crumbled into pieces… I’m a shattered shit, until I find time and ways to pick myself up again.
They say the best people to love are the difficult ones. And I knew that I shouldn’t be vulnerable to such people, my defenses should be greater. This has been a fact I’ve lived for all my life. But then, through the years I have lived on to this reality, I seem to have never, ever got myself into accepting these personalities wholly. Sometimes I even ask: have they even thought of ways of loving me, so I can give them the best love that they wanted me to give them? and this is one ugly question I don’t want to dare ask, but when my walls are shattered, I find myself asking this.
Now I’m done asking, I tell myself next “Maybe I’ll just try to understand more…” but the incessant attempts and herculean effort makes me afraid as well–afraid that in my attempt to wholly understand and accept, I am starting to cut some strings as well…to remain rational. and the moment I become completely rational, emotions will be completely stripped off; all the ties cut off. I hope it won’t happen; I am still holding on to the tie that seriously binds. Happy times still outweighs irrational, insensitive remarks. I would still like to hold on to that–for now.