By then, I hope

Prompt: Maine’s latest blog post entitled “Blues”

Even if you’re happy now… at one point the bad things will hit you up again.

The wheel would start spinning, and you’ll have to deal with the same crap you’ve been through over and over. It’s a cycle, it has been distastefully familiar. You knew it’s inevitable.

But that’s okay. Because by then, you have learned to value every waking moment; by then, you have learned that the goal is not happiness, but strength, fortitude, and wisdom to understand that there will always be pain, and you can turn that into something beautiful.

Because by then, I’m sure, he will be there for you. And that will be enough.

I hope he will be enough. 

Self-destruction

It’s not that I’m easy to read; it’s that I wanted to be read.

And it could get pretty difficult sometimes, given my dysfunctional disposition.

I got a year older a few days ago, and I don’t really know if I indeed am changing, or just becoming more of who I really am. To be honest, I’m becoming more conflicted with my relationships with other people than otherwise. I used to be clear about who I want to be with and who I trust. I cherish everyone who tolerates my noise and quirkiness.

But now I feel like I don’t know anyone anymore.

I’m having a good time with interesting and fascinating strangers. Not occasionally, but on a regular basis.

Nothing can be more twisted than that, I reckon. I was happy––too happy. It’s a foreign thing to me. It’s not normal.

I always knew that this aversion, reluctance, and confusion stem from my constant fear of happiness. I’ve long thought about it. I was programmed to turn this feeling into some twisted thing or phobia. I’ve had my fair share of disasters following euphoric events—I’m always afraid that every time I get happy, the next day pays for it. Happiness it seemed always had a price. They only let you be this happy if they’re preparing to take something from you.

I know this fear has ruined and is ruining every genuine opportunity to savour these rare times, but I can’t blame myself. This world is cruel.

Am I happy? Yeah, for a little while. For many little whiles.

And I’m not sad.
I’m okay.

And I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.